


The Music of the Night

by DefyingPopularity



Category: Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefyingPopularity/pseuds/DefyingPopularity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colette Harker leads a quiet life. She chooses to paint to pass her time, and has a great talent for it. After the death of her parents, she begins to receive these mysterious letters from someone who calls himself O.G. Shortly after turning seventeen, Colette travels to Paris with a job waiting for her at the Opera Populaire as a painter of background canvases for the operas. While waiting patiently to meet this mysterious O.G., she meets a Count who has recently become a patron of the Opera Populaire. The mysterious Count that Colette has met is Count Dracula, and he has come to Paris to claim Colette as his bride. To stop him, Erik and Van Helsing team up to save Colette from the Count's grasp. Based on Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) and ALW's Phantom of the Opera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story was started on July 28, 2008. After a hiatus and after finishing my other Phantom stories, I resumed this one on July 10, 2013. Enjoy!  
> ~DP

She sat in her seat as Paris began to become more and more visible. Her long blonde hair was up in a neat bun as she made sure that she looked all right, knowing that she would be meeting the owners of the Opera Populaire at the train station the very second she arrived. She wore a long violet gown, the bodice tied tightly to minimize her already small waist. Although, it was entirely too tight for such a long train ride. Putting her mirror away, she continued to look out the window as Paris grew more and more near, the train's brakes activating with a loud squeal as it slowed to a halt in front of the train station. A stack of letters in white envelopes and a red skull seal on the back rested neatly in her lap, almost completely hidden by her hand that rested on top of them.

She had begun to receive these mysterious letters the year that her parents died. One arrived every week, and this mysterious 'Opera Ghost,' as they had been signed, had requested that she come to Paris once she had reached the age of seventeen to claim the family fortune that awaited her. Now, here she was on a train that had come to a complete stop, with the lights of Paris glowing in the night sky, a smile spread across her face. Gracefully, she stood, smoothing out the skirt of her gown and stepping out into the busy aisle, searching for her escorts that awaited her. A train attendant placed her luggage in her awaiting hands and directed her to the carriage that was waiting for her on the corner of the street. In front of the carriage stood the owners of the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Richard Firmin, and Monsieur Giles Andre. Quickly, she placed the letters into one of her bags and approached them timidly. Monsieur Firmin, she recognized as the taller one, looked up, seeing her as she approached them.

"Mademoiselle Harker," he greeted, walking up to meet her. He removed his gray top had from his graying head and bowed in front of her after she stopped, smiling kindly at him.

"Yes. Call me Colette, if you please, Monsieur Firmin," she replied to the greeting as she curtseyed politely after setting her luggage on the sidewalk. She watched him rise and motion for the coachman to come over and get her luggage and he was followed by Monsieur Andre. Once the coachman walked away with Colette's bags, both of the owners, first Monsieur Firmin, and then Monsieur Andre, politely lifted and kissed Colette's delicate hand, then led her to the carriage, helping her inside before they got in.

"I hope the train ride was suitable for you from your ship from London," Monsieur Andre spoke as he saw her looking out of the carriage's window, admiring Paris's sights.

"It was tolerable, Monsieur Andre," she said in reply, pulling her eyes away from Paris's beautiful lights, looking at the owners with a kind smile. Although on the inside, her body was screaming to be released from the incredibly tight bodice from her gown. "I'm just happy to be here. I've been looking forward to this for years. I cannot wait to begin working for you. I'm really looking forward to it."

"Yes, well, when you wrote us and asked us about an opening as a painter, we didn't have anything open," Monsieur Firmin said, smiling kindly at her. Colette looked at his hands, noticing that they were glistening with sweat as he spoke. It was almost as if he was afraid of something that she had said. "We received a very high recommendation from someone at the Opera House, so of course we had to hire you."

"Well, I thank you for this opportunity, Monsieur. I just hope I can be as much help to you as I possibly can."

Soon, the clomping hooves of the horses that were pulling the carriage was starting to slow and soon came to a stop as the driver gave the command for them to stop. The weight on the back of the carriage was lifted as the coachman appeared and opened the door, offering his hand to Colette to help her out. She took it and stepped out and was soon followed by Andre and Firmin. She looked at the beautiful site of the Opera Populaire, the magnificent columns and the beautiful statues that graced the front stairs to the entrances. She was completely mesmerized with it, her eyes traveling up to the roof. She caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure that looked like it was looking down at her, but it quickly disappeared. Andre and Firmin stood beside her, smiling as she took in the sight of the beautiful gold palace that awaited her and the mysteries and thrills that waited inside.

"Shall we go inside," Andre asked her as he offered his arm to her as the coachman stood behind Firmin, waiting to walk ahead to follow the three while holding Colette's luggage.

"Yes," she said with a kind smile, taking Andre's arm and letting him walk her inside the opera house. As they entered the main hall, two attendants took Andre and Firmin's coats and hats. Again, just like the outside of the Opera Populaire, the walls and columns were painted in gold and the floor was marble. There were many doors and a grand staircase, as well as statues that graced the entire theatre and its patrons as they came in to see the operas. The owners showed Colette to the quarters where the ballerinas and some actresses lived and Andre opened the door to Colette's private quarters. She stepped inside, looking around. The bed was against the wall with midnight blue bed sheets, a window above it, the dark wooden walls thick, however bare. She had a dresser with a mirror and basin and there was a rack where she could hang her clothes. There was another mirror; it was tall and resting against the wall with a dark gold colored frame. She walked up to it, examining the edges. It looked like it had been slipped open from the side a few times. She placed her hand on the rough edges, looking at her reflection.

"How do you like it," Firmin asked, watching her as she examined the mirror. Colette pulled herself away from the mirror, smiling at Andre and Firmin.

"The walls are bare, but I can fix that. I love it otherwise," she replied, turning in a circle as she looked around the room once more. "It's perfect."

"Good," he smiled and the attendant brought her bags in, setting them on her bed. "If you don't mind, we would like you to start painting sets immediately. We're opening a new opera in two weeks and this is what he need." He handed her a list and she took it in her hand, reading over it. It listed a night sky and a city in the daylight and a battle scene. All of these scenes for the opera called 'Hannibal' by Chalumeau. "Do you think you can at least do the night sky tonight," Andre asked her with imploring eyes, as if he was begging her.

"Of course," she smiled, folding the list and setting it on her dresser, taking her hair out of her bun. "If you'll allow me to change, I'll get to work right away."

"Of course, Colette," Firmin said as he and Andre smiled, leaving her alone to her room. Colette looked around her now empty room, trying to think of ways to make it different from all of the others. She changed as she thought about the color of the wood. It was dark, not as the night sky, but it was so dark that no light color would look good against it. She decided to give it some more thought later, leaving her room and shutting the door behind her. She walked down the corridor, passing the ballet mistress's room on her way up to the stage. She placed her hand on the banister, holding her skirt as she walked up the stairs. She immediately found herself to be backstage, staring up at the large canvas that awaited her. She let out a breath and looked at the colors that sat on the floor beside it, kneeling down and taking the palate in her hand. She began mixing the colors onto the palate with her brushes and she began painting the canvas, the dark blue soaking into the fabric and soon, the fabric was coated in the blues and blacks of the night, grey clouds lightly gracing the scene near the top and little stars remaining. The stars, constellations that graced the night, the designs that she so loved and dreamt of in her dreams as she laid in the grass with her lover, gazing up at them and getting lost in her lover's eyes. She placed the palate on the floor, getting up and stretching, hearing a clock chime in the distance, as well as creaks from the rafters above her. She looked up, but saw nothing. It was well into the late hours of the night, three in the morning to be exact. She rubbed her eyes, and then walked away from the canvas, making her way back to her room. All was quiet in the Opera Populaire, which all of the dancers, stage hands and builders in bed for the night and here, the newest addition to the staff, an artist, was just now going down for the night. She quickly and quietly opened the door to her room, closing it after she walked in. The lamp on her wall as lit and burning dimly until she turned the knob, the room becoming brighter. And there, on her dresser, resting against the basin was another white envelope addressed to her, just like the dozens before she came to Paris. Oddly excited, she walked over and picked it up, sitting on her bed and turning it over, breaking the skull seal and taking the letter out, unfolding it and reading it silently. It read:

" _Dearest Colette,_

_You have made it to Paris safely and now, you are under the employ of the morons that run my opera house. I am happy that they gave you a private room and I saw that you noticed the rough edges around the mirror. I'll let you in on a little secret. The mirror is a secret passage way leading down to the catacombs of the opera house and you are NEVER to use it. Now, you must get some sleep because I know that when you get this it will be very late. I have already sent the morons a note to let you sleep for as long as you want. Their newest acquirement must have her energy so the sets are beautiful._

_Goodnight, my dear Colette._

_Your faithful severant,_

_O.G."_

She smiled softly, folding up the letter, though her mind was racing with questions. Where was he and how did he know where her room was? Better yet, how did she even know if he was a man at all? And yet, she sighed happily as if she had received a letter from her parents or, better yet, the lover that she dreamed of at night. She slipped out of her dress and corset, brushing through her long hair and washed her face, going over to the bed and pulling her sheets back, getting in and covering herself. She held the letter to her chest, smiling still, then closed her eyes and falling asleep, the dream of her, the stars and her lover, coming back to her sweeter than ever before.


	2. Chapter 2

The night passed with ease, but the deep sleep that she was in was waning away as she listened to the hustle and bustle of all of the people running past her room. Slowly, she opened her eyes and rubbed them, yawning as she looked at the clock on the wall and seeing that the time was half past noon; nine and a half hours of sleep, all thanks to the mysterious O.G. She rose from her bed, setting her feet on the cold wooden floor as she padded her way over to the dresser and poured some water into her basin, washing her face and neck. Drying off, she searched for possible dresses she could wear to her second day of work. As she pulled on a red dress, a girl entered, breathing hard, shutting and locking the door. She had flame red hair and freckles and she was about five feet tall, wearing a dancer's outfit and shoes. Colette gasped, startled by the girl who had entered her room. When her intruder realized that she wasn't in an empty room, she turned to Colette, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice indicating a heavy French accent as she spoke. "I thought this room was vacant. I'm hiding from someone."

Just as Colette was about to speak, there was a pounding knock at the door and a gruff voice behind it. "You can't hide from me, Lucy! I saw you go in there!"

Lucy turned back to Colette, her eyes pleading for help as the pounding on the door continued. Colette pointed to the dresser, instructing Lucy to hide beside it as she went to the door, unlocking it and opening it with caution. In front of her stood a grungy, dark and sinister looking stage hand, his brown hair greasy and his breath reeking of alcohol.

"May I help you?" Colette asked, her voice stern as she held her dress up by her chest, covering herself as the man looked her up and down lustfully.

"I'm looking for Lucy. I saw her come in here."

"I'm sorry, but I'm the only one in this room and I do not know any Lucy. Now, I suggest you leave before I call for the managers and tell them that you woke me."

The man's lip curled and he turned on his heel, stalking off down the hallway. Colette merely smirked, shutting the door and locking it again, turning around to see that Lucy was now standing, her eyes wide in admiration, shocked that the girl was standing up for her.

"Thank you for that. You could've handed me over to him, but you didn't. For that, I owe you. I'm Lucy. Lucy Harris."

"You're welcome, Lucy," she replied, going over to the mirror. "Would you mind tying the back of this?"

"I'd love to," she said, coming up behind Colette. Grabbing the strings, she laced up the bodice of the dress. "I didn't get your name."

"Colette. Colette Harker. I just moved here from London."

"Oh! You must be the new artist that the managers have been talking about. Everyone's fawning over the canvas you did of the night sky for 'Hannibal.' I'm quite jealous. I wish I could paint like you."

"It's a lot of work, but it's worth it to see your work being praised," she said, feeling better once Lucy had finshed lacing up the back of the dress. Skillfully, she began to fix her hair as she continued. "I  _am_ modest, though. I hate it when people go from praising to brown-nosing. I just want everyone to know the person behind the paintings, you know?"

"I know what you mean. I'm a chorus girl, but I won't get noticed. Not the way that Christine did."

"Christine?" she questioned as she cast her a look over her shoulder. "Who's Christine?"

"You've never heard of Christine Daae?"

"No, I haven't, though her last name sounds familiar."

"You're probably thinking of her father, Gustav Daae."

"The violinist?"

"Yes, that's right. She was brought here after he died. She went from being a chorus girl to the lead today!"

"How can that be?"

"Well, people say that someone has been training her," she said, sitting on the bed as she watched Colette finish her hair. "Some people say that it was Piangi, the lead tenor doing it because he wanted someone better than Carlotta, the prima donna, beside him. Others are saying that she taught herself. But Christine's explanation is the strangest of them all."

"And what is Christine's explanation?"

"Christine told Meg Giry, the ballet mistress's daughter, last night that she's being trained by an Angel of Music, someone who comes to her through mirrors and takes her below to the catacombs of the Opera House."

Colette froze. Mirror? Catacombs? She had heard those words before…in the letter from her anonymous penpal. He told her not to touch the mirror because it was a passageway that led down to the catacombs. She wasn't allowed to go in it, although she didn't know why. Maybe it was because he was with Christine and  _he_ was the one training her. Of course, she couldn't be sure about that. After all, she didn't really know her alleged admirer; she only knew him through the letters that he had sent her. Maybe he was someone that she shouldn't be chasing after…

"Are you all right?" Lucy asked as the color drained from Colette's face. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

"Never better. I was…just thinking about Christine's explanation, that's all."

"Do you think that she's lying, or telling the truth?"

"Well, to be honest, Lucy, I really don't know. I haven't known Christine long enough to know whether she would be lying about something like this so until we see this special trainer of hers, I think we should keep it quiet, even though I'm sure that everyone is talking about it."

"Yes, it's been the gossip around here lately," she said, heading towards the door. Opening it, she turned to her, smiling. "I want to thank you again for hiding me from that gruesome stage hand. Don't let him bother you. He's a drunkard and he'll try anything. Be careful."

"Thank you for the warning, Lucy," she said, offering her a smile, and then watched as she left the room.

Colette soon followed suit and went to the stage, climbing the stairs as she held her dress while walking to the catwalk that was hanging above the stage, her hands placed firmly on the ropes for balance. She wasn't a fan of heights and the catwalk didn't feel very sturdy at all, but she wanted to make sure that the canvas that she had painted last night wouldn't be damaged as they tied ropes around it. She watched as the stagehands down below began to pull the ropes and the canvas began to rise, but she noticed that the right side was lopsided, so she stopped, leaning over the side and looking down at the stage hand on the right side.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice echoing throughout the empty theater as the stage hands looked up at her. "The right side of the canvas is tilted. I think you should lower it and make sure that you're pulling the ropes at an even pace slowly so the canvas will rise evenly."

"Thank you for that piece of advice," said a gruff voice coming from the left side of the catwalk.

She turned her head and she saw the sinister stage hand that was chasing after Lucy. She turned her body to him, her hands clutching the ropes of the catwalk as she kept her eyes on him, telling herself not to look down.

"I think we can handle the job ourselves, Madame  _Artiste_ ," he said to her with his hands on the ropes, though he stayed on the solid level.

He shook the ropes and the catwalk began to sway and Colette gasped, going down onto her knees, clutching the ropes. The stagehand smirked, letting out a low and demonic chuckle, holding the ropes tightly.

"P-please don't do that," she said, her voice full of fear as she looked down at the stage below, swallowing hard as a sweat broke out on her forehead.

"What? This?" he asked, taking the ropes and shaking them harder.

Colette leaned over, flipping over the catwalk and plummeting towards the stage. She screamed, reaching for the catwalk's rope that seemed so far now, still descending at a rapid pace. As the stage hands ran over to try and catch to her, an object from the shadows, a figure of a man dressed in black swinging from a free rope, caught her and held her tight as they landed on the opposite side of the stage. Colette closed her eyes and fainted out of fear. The dark figure cradled her and set her down on the floor, resting her head gently against the wall. From the stage and out through the theater, there were shouts of Colette's name and yelling at the stage hand responsible for scaring her when she was only trying to help. The figure looked down at Colette, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but as he did so, her eyes fluttered opened as she began to stir. He stood and walked away, disappearing once again into the shadows before she had a chance to see his face. Andre and Firmin came down the hallway, finding Colette and saying her name worriedly, hoping that she would wake up. Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked twice, seeing them hovering over her.

"Colette, are you all right?" Firmin asked, holding her ice cold hands, almost afraid to help her up.

"W…what happened?"

"Buquet shook the ropes of the catwalk and you fell. Someone swung on a rope from the shadows and saved you, though, and brought you here."

"Well, where is he? I would like to thank him."

"I don't know, but don't worry. We'll find him. For now, I think it would be best that you go to your room and rest up for the rest of the night. Don't worry about the other canvases. All that needs to be done is to paint them and that shouldn't be a problem for the stage hands."

She gave them a soft nod and one of the stage hands who was working on the night sky canvas she painted helped her up, leading her back to her room. When she was out of earshot, Firmin turned to Andre and both men had a look of worry on their faces.

"She doesn't know the story," Andre said, leaning up against the wall.

"No, she doesn't and I think he'll want to keep it that way."

"But he saved her life! And she wants to thank him. How is he going to pull that off? He's a phantom, for goodness sake."

"I know  _what_ he is, but I guarantee you that there will be a note waiting on our desk for us, telling us that he doesn't want to be thanked for saving her."

"'O.G.' is a man of many moods and emotions, Firmin. Let's just see what happens, all right?"

"Yes, that was your idea that last time. Remember when we first received a letter from her? 'Let's just see what happens?' The next thing we know is that there's a note on our desk from the Opera Ghost telling us to hire her or he would string us from the highest rafters!"

He gulped, holding his neck. "All right, then. What do you suggest we do?"

Firmin thought for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as he began to pace. He stopped after a moment, looking back at Andre. "We'll write  _him_ a note."

"A note? Wouldn't that be stooping down to his level?"

"Maybe in some way, but not really. We'll write him and tell him that Colette wants to thank him for saving her life, and that he's welcome to join us at the gala."

"What? Are we going to become business associates with him now?"

"I never said that. And besides, we have this new patron besides the Vicomte de Changey coming tonight."

"Oh, yes, Count Vladimir de Maurier. Did we ever get any background information on him?"

"Not that I'm aware of. The only thing that I know is he arrived in Paris last night and he's looking forward to seeing our opera tomorrow evening. That's all that I know."

"I wonder if he'll want to meet Colette."

"It's possible. He  _did_ come to Paris looking for a wife."


	3. Chapter 3

As the overture for the opera began, Lucy was excused from the performance that night to help Colette get better, who was lying on her bed in her room with a cold compress over her eyes. Lucy was sitting in a chair by the vanity, reading one of Colette's many books that she brought with her, wondering as her eyes skimmed across the pages when Colette was going to wake up. However, Colette wasn't really asleep. Her eyes were closed beneath the compress, but she was lying still and wide awake, listening to the music as it filled the quiet halls of the theatre. She slowly sat up, removing the compress and slowly opening her eyes, turning her head and seeing Lucy.

"Hello, Lucy," she said softly, rubbing her eyes. Lucy looked up from the book, smiling sweetly and closing it, setting it on the vanity.

"Hello, Colette. How do you feel?"

"I'm feeling much better, thank you. Why aren't you onstage with everyone else?"

"The managers asked me to look after you until you woke up. They still want you to come to the gala though, if you're well enough."

"I am well enough, I hope," she said, swinging her legs around and setting her feet gently on the floor. Her feet were bare and she was in her corset and slip. Lucy must have undressed her when she actually was asleep.

"I heard you fell from the catwalk this afternoon," Lucy said as she went to Colette's closet to pick out a dress for her to wear to the gala.

"Weren't you around at all," Colette asked her as she rose from her bed, walked across the room and sat at her vanity and began to brush out her long blond hair, watching her as she rummaged through the array of dresses.

"The dancers were being fitted for costumes at the time, but when we heard you scream, we ran to see what was going on, but there was a lot of talk of the Phantom saving your life."

She froze, dropping her brush and it clattered to the floor. The Phantom of the Opera had saved her life? She began to blush a deep shade of red, mainly out of embarrassment and yet, a wild desire began to burn inside of her. She picked up her brush and began brushing her hair again. "Yes, it wasn't very pleasant. The fall, I mean."

"I should say not. May I ask…what happened," she fished timidly as she found a dress that she really liked.

Colette watched her as she heard the timidity in Lucy's voice as she asked her what happened. It was as if she was afraid of the answer. She turned her body to look at the dresses that Lucy had picked out, since she was holding them up. In her left hand, she held a navy blue long sleeved gown, lined with a light blue trim of lace on the skirt and the skirt split into a sort of triangle shape, revealing a different shade of blue; a bit lighter than the navy, but it was still a bit dark. She smiled softly at the dress. It used to be her mother's, and therefore, it was a bit more conservative. However, in her right hand, Lucy held a gown made of red silk and sleeves were made to go around the tops of her arms, which left her shoulders, neck and arms bare. The hem of the skirt was maroon lace and the corseted back accented her curves more when tied just right. It was perfect for the gala. She pointed to the red dress and Lucy laid it gently onto her bed, and then asked, "Well?"

It was at that point that Colette had forgotten to respond to Lucy's question. She cleared her throat as Lucy came over to take over for her hair, and slowly began the story.

"I was walking around the theatre, familiarizing myself with it so I wouldn't get lost. I made my way to the stage and to get a better view of what the stage hands were doing, I went up the stairs and walked across the catwalk. I don't know why I chose to walk across the catwalk because I'm a little afraid of heights, but I guess I did just so I could get a better view. I saw that the stage hands were raising the canvas that I had finished last night and it was crooked. I gave them some advice on how to fix it without ruining the canvas and the man who was chasing after you was standing on the other side. He shook the ropes and I fell. I guess I fainted while I was mid fall because when I came to, Andre and Firmin were standing before me and I was resting against the wall."

Lucy listened intently as she fixed Colette's hair, putting it in a unique but nice bun, two small braids lacing over it and light soft strands of hair on either side of her face. "I'm sorry that Buquet did that to you."

"Buquet," Colette repeated as she admired Lucy's work on her hair. "Is that his name?"

"Yes. Joseph Buquet. He's been here longer than any of the other stage hands, but he's the most crude of them all. He harasses the dancers and he's a Peeping Tom. I guess he only harassed you because you're new and you're getting paid more than he is."

Colette shrugged, and then asked, "Who said the Phantom had saved my life?"

"It was one of the stage hands who worked on the canvas. After everything had settled down and everyone was back to work, he told me that as they ran over to catch you, the Phantom swung from a rope and caught you and he landed on the other side with you in his arms."

"But why would he save me?"

"Maybe he likes you. What do I know? Maybe he'll appear to you like he did to Christine."

"Christine has seen him? He's a real person?"

"She says that he is, but no one else knows. Most of us see his shadow or hear his cape swooshing about."

Colette shrugged again, getting up from her vanity and walking over to her bed, pulling on the dress with Lucy's help. She held onto the bed post as Lucy tied the back. "Will I see you at the gala later," she asked as she gave a hard tug and Colette let out a loud gasp, holding her stomach.

"Yes, I hope so, if Andre and Firmin let me escape from their grips for a while," she replied with a chuckle and Lucy chuckled also, tying the back of Colette's gown. Colette straightened up, going to look in the mirror, turning around in a circle.

"You look beautiful," Lucy beamed, heading towards the door. "I'm going to go watch the rest of the opera. Want to join me?"

"I'll be there in a few minutes," she replied, admiring how the gown looked on her as she turned around in a circle again. Lucy quietly shut the door behind her as she left and Colette went to her vanity, getting her make up out. She wanted to put on some final touches so she looked absolutely perfect, though she already looked beautiful. As she raised her brush to her face after running it lightly over a light pink for her eyes, her candles went out. She sat in the darkness; the only light in her room was the moonlight shining in her window. She stood up, going over to relight the candles.

"Don't relight them," a voice said in the darkness. Colette froze completely in place in front of her mirror, dropping her matches on the floor. The voice was dark, hard, and yet, it was also gentle and soft.

"Who's there," she asked in a quiet voice, her hands trembling as she looked around the room. The room was empty. So where was the voice coming from?

"I am he," the voice replied.

"He? The one who saved my life this afternoon?"

"And the one who has been writing to you for these past few months."

Her heart leapt as she took in his words, pulling her chair from her vanity and sitting beside her mirror. It seemed like that was where the voice was coming from. It was loudest by the mirror than it was by her door. "Why can't I see you?"

"I am of flesh and blood and I will appear to you fully in time."

"So you are real?"

"Every inch."

She let out a breath of air, feeling slightly overwhelmed and yet, she was happy. She had never felt like this before. Her heart was racing a mile a minute. She had been waiting for this day for such a long time. The only thing she wished was different was that she wished that she could see him fully. Suddenly, she had realized that she had forgotten to speak. "I…I've kept every letter you've written."

"I know. I saw them while you were unpacking."

She blinked as the feelings of happiness slipping away and being replaced with a slight feeling of invasion and excitement. Excitement ran through her veins because he had been watching her and a strange tingle went down her spine to her thighs. "You watched me unpack? Have you watched me undress as well?"

"Never," he said, the tone of his voice filled with a slight annoyance with a mixture of disgust. "I am a gentleman, not a pig like Buquet."

"Thank you. I would feel violated if had watched me dress. My apologies if I annoyed you in any way."

"Would you feel violated if I asked you a question?"

"It depends on what that question is."

The Opera Ghost ignored this comment from her. "We don't have much time. It's almost intermission and the managers will be looking for you. I was just wondering…where did you learn to paint?"

She blinked at the question, rubbing the back of her neck softly as she prepared to answer him. All she could really do is smile as she thought about it. The memories of her and her father painting together on the shores of the English Channel danced through her mind as she folded her hands in her lap. "My father taught me. He was an amazing painter and my mother was a writer. A great writer of poetry and prose." She stopped, thinking about her parents. It had only been a few months since her parents passing and it was something that she wasn't ready to talk about yet.

"You have a great talent for painting. Your canvases are beautiful."

She blushed, touching her cheek as if he had brushed his fingers against her soft skin. Then, she heard heavy footfalls of people coming down the hall and the voices of the managers and dancers mixed in. "They're coming," she said, standing up from her chair and setting it back beside her vanity. "When will I see you again?"

There was no reply. Instead, the candles relit themselves and the room was well lit once again. "O.G.," she whispered, wondering where he had gone. Instead of a reply from that sweet, calm and gentle voice, there was a knock on the door.

"Mademoiselle Harker? Are you almost ready?"

The kind voice behind the door belonged to Monsieur Firmin. She would recognize that voice anyway. She smiled and finished tying the front of her luscious gown and she opened her door smiling at the managers. "I just finished, Monsieur Firmin. How do I look? I don't look too eager, do I?"

The managers both shook their heads at a rapid pace. Both of them, though they didn't have daughters of their own, thought that Colette looked exquisitely beautiful for the young age of seventeen. They looked at each other, both of them grinning from ear to ear. They would introduce her to the Count and they would watch her like a hawk with him until the Count made his decision about her. Colette stepped out of her room and shut her door, walking between the managers as they led her back to the balcony they were sitting in. As they walked, the corridors were crowded with so many people that were stretching their legs so the managers and Colette had to push their way through the crowd. They finally arrived at balcony and Andre opened the door for her and she stepped inside. As she took her seat, the man behind her tapped her on the shoulder and smiled. He was dressed nicely and had his blond hair tied back in a ribbon, the suit black and the shirt was collared.

"You must be the Artiste I have heard so much about," he said and offered his hand to her, which she took in a slow and nervous manner.

"Ah, I see you've already met," Firmin said, taking his seat again. "Colette, I would like to introduce you to Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, Christine Daae's fiancée. Raoul, this is Colette Harker, the Artiste we have hired for this season."

Raoul smiled and Colette smiled back as he placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, and then released it from his soft hold. "We were wondering what was keeping you."

"Forgive me for being tardy. I had a bit of a brush of death earlier today and I wanted to rest up to make sure that I was well enough to come tonight."

"Yes, Giles and Richard were just telling me that before they went to fetch you. I'm sorry that happened to you. The stage hands are so rough with the new young ladies here."

"Well, the others have been very kind to me. It was just that one. He was chasing Lucy, one of the dancers, today and she hid in my room. He came to my door and asked for her, but I told him that there was no one in the room other than myself. I think that's why he chose to corner me."

"Well, don't worry, Colette," Firmin whispered as the orchestra began to play for the second act of the opera. "We'll deal with him accordingly."

She nodded with a soft smile and turned her attention to the stage. The music swelled and the dancers took the stage, dancing in a beautiful style. Soon they parted and a canvas was lowered. Not just any canvas, however. It was her night sky. She looked down at the patrons and they all gasped and smiles appeared on their faces and whispers about its beauty. Behind the dancers appeared the lead soprano, dressed in an amazing white gown with her hair pulled back with jeweled flowers. Immediately, Colette knew that it was Christine Daae. She watched and she felt so overwhelmed with the feeling of all of the patrons talking in whispers about her canvas that it brought tears to her eyes. She felt something being put in her hand and she looked down, seeing a handkerchief. She looked over and Firmin smiled, patting her hand.

"I know that they're tears of joy," he whispered with a kind smile. "You should be proud. Tonight, the stars aren't shining for Mademoiselle Daae; they're shining for you."

* * *

The opera ended after the fourth act and the patrons erupted in applause for the curtain call. They all gathered backstage to meet the cast and to have champagne and to mingle. Sometimes, if the single gentlemen were lucky, the dancers were willing to lead them to a dark corridor somewhere in the opera house. Raoul had gone off to meet with Christine to take her out to dinner, then to their lovely home. Andre and Firmin, however, had other plans. They took Colette and introduced her to the most powerful people in Paris and they paraded her around like a peacock. Colette was a modest person and she wasn't one to gloat about her work. Not only that, but when it came to meeting people that she would never see again, it made her nervous and she only spoke when she was spoken to, which was soon taken over by Andre and Firmin as the patrons asked questions. It took about an hour, but Colette finally managed to pull herself away from them for a breath of hair, but was soon found by Lucy, who was smiling widely and drunk from champagne.

"Oh, Colette," she said, her words slurred together as she held onto the wall for support. "Your paintings were so beautiful! Everyone loves you!"

"Thank you, Lucy," she replied meekly, then asked in a soft voice, "Are you drunk?"

"Shh," she said, her finger pressed against her lips while she giggled giddily. "I may be, but only a little."

"Lucy, I think you need to go to bed," Colette said, then a stage hand came over, picking Lucy up and carrying her to the dancer's quarters and Lucy waved goodbye, laughing loudly. She shook her head, letting out a soft laugh as she leaned up against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Your friend can't hide her secrets very well," a voice said beside her.

Colette slowly opened her eyes and she straightened up, turning to see who was speaking to her. It was a man, dressed in a black suit and white shirt and bow tie. He was taller than her by at least six inches and he was fit. His long black hair was pulled back with a black ribbon and he was wearing a top hat. Along with the suit, he wore white gloves on his hands and a cape, black with red satin on the inside that just glowed. Her eyes traveled to his face. He was clean-shaven and his eyes were a mixture of brown and a light blue, which she recognized as hazel. They were warm and she felt herself drowning in his stare. He offered her a soft smile and handed her a glass of champagne, which she took without objecting, sipping at it.

"I suppose you're right," she replied in a soft voice, looking up at the kind stranger before sipping at the champagne again.

"What's a beautiful young lady like you doing over here by yourself," he asked, watching her as his eyes raked over her body, his voice laden with a heavy, foreign accent that she didn't recognize.

"Sometimes, a beautiful girl needs to get away from all of the people lavishing her with compliments that she has heard over and over again."

He smiled softly, looking at her. "Well, if you were with me, I would never stop complimenting you," he whispered, his face close to hers. Colette nearly fell into his arms, breathing in his scent. Suddenly, she noticed that he had pulled away, as if he sensed someone coming. Sure enough, Andre and Firmin had arrived beside them, both of them grinning as they saw who Colette was speaking with.

"Ah, I see that you two have already met," Andre said cheerfully, sipping at his own champagne.

"Well, we haven't been formally introduced," the man said as he looked at the managers, and then turned his attention back to Colette.

"Ah, well! Count, this is Colette Harker, the wonderful Artiste that did such a beautiful job on the canvases that you saw this evening. Colette, this is Count Vladimir de Maurier of Transylvania."

Colette's mouth dropped open slightly, completely speechless. Transylvania was a place that she had only read about in her books that she brought with her. She thought that place was completely fictional. She finally found her voice back and she smiled, curtseying politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Count de Maurier."

The Count smiled and took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it, giving her the same warm stare that he had before. His lips were oddly cold, but she thought it was because of the champagne. He didn't drop her hand, but stared into her eyes. "Likewise, Madame Harker."

"Mademoiselle," she corrected him politely, her cheeks turning pink with a soft blush.

"I hope to see you again soon, but sadly, it's time for me to retire to my home. Goodnight, Mademoiselle Harker."

"We'll walk with you," Firmin said as the Count slowly let go of Colette's hand, then walked out with the managers. Colette soon found herself up against the wall again, her heart beating rapidly. She set her champagne glass down and placed her hand over her heart, feeling her heartbeat. It was quiet for a few moments, then Lucy came over, having regained a bit of control since she was dragged away by the stage hand. She had saw the Count was with her and she didn't want to disturb them, but as soon as he was gone, she came over and asked, "Who was that?"

Colette couldn't find her words again, her mind on her heart, wondering why she was feeling like this. She straightened up again, turned to Lucy and smiled. "A man who wanted me more than any one else here," she said blissfully and softly, and then started walking to her room. As she walked, she felt as if she was gliding. She thought that maybe it was the alcohol, but that couldn't have been it. No, it was that Count. Somehow, the Count had some kind of hold on her in that few minutes of meeting and talking. She entered her room and shut the door, going to her bed. She looked over as she sat down, finding a single white rose with a white envelope with the red skull seal. O.G. had written to her again. She grabbed the envelope and smiled, opening it and taking the note out, unfolding it and reading it.

" _My dearest Colette:_

_I apologize that our time was cut short this evening. I went to the performance and though I was impressed with how Miss Daae performed, I was even more impressed and entranced by the beauty and exquisiteness of your canvases. As I told you this evening, you have a great talent and though you are modest, you don't let the modesty appear on the canvases and for that, I admire you. I leave with you a single white rose. The white rose represents_   _purity, innocence and secrecy_ _. We will speak again soon. I promise you._

_Your faithful servant and friend,_

_O.G."_

She sighed happily and folded the letter, placing it back into the envelope, and blew out the candle. She lay down on the bed; still completely dressed, not having the energy to undress, not even to take off her shoes. She slipped into a heavy sleep, completely worn out from the events of the day.

Behind the mirror, he watched her, smiling some as she watched her chest moved in slow, deep breaths. He slowly slid the mirror open and stepped inside, his cape flowing behind him and his mask reflecting some in the moonlight. Without making a sound, he walked over to her sleeping form slowly, bending down at her feet and slowly untied her shoes. He couldn't stand her being uncomfortable. Once the shoes were loosened, he slowly pulled them off of her feet, setting them on the floor quietly. She let out a soft moan and rolled onto her opposite side, her back towards him. He didn't move at first, afraid that he would wake her, but then reached over and loosened the ties little by little, pulling them loose gradually. She let out a content sigh and he immediately drew his hands back, thinking that he had woken her. She didn't move, but continued to breathe deeply in her sleep. He got up and quietly snuck out of her room, sliding the mirror shut. The followed the corridors to the lake, getting into his boat and paddling quickly to his home. Once he got to the other side, he removed his cloak and hung it up, stretching, then went over to his piano and began composing. He was working on a new piece, a present for Colette. It was a lullaby, something to give her happy dreams.

Meanwhile, a young seamstress had just finished up the last bottle of champagne and was stumbling back to her room. Everyone had either left or gone to bed and the Opera Populaire was embraced in darkness. She stopped at the center of the stage, seeing that someone was following her. She smiled, putting her hands on her hips as he made his way to her, his eyes penetrating her soul. His black cape swooshed about and she saw traces of red satin and she knew who he was immediately.

"Have you been following me this whole time, Count de Maurier," she asked, her words slightly slurred as he took her in his arms, looking down at her.

"Do you blame me, Mary," he whispered, his lips lightly touching her neck and she let out a lustful sigh, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"I knew you wanted me when you saw me," she said with a smirk, pressing her body against his.

"Yes, but I want you in a different way," he said, a low growl laden in his voice as his mouth opened. Mary's breath seemed to leave her body as she felt two sharp points against her skin.

"What --?"

She didn't finish what she was going to ask. The Count had pierced her neck and tilted her head, drinking her blood as he growled softly against her skin. She didn't scream; her eyes were empty and her body became weightless as the Count continued to drink hungrily, laying the body down and licking the wound clean. He pulled back, licking the blood from his lips as he saw that the wound had already began to close and he stared at the lifeless body, a soft expression of fear the last look on her face. He adjusted himself and left the body where it was, leaving the theater, satisfied. Soon, it would be the Artiste's turn.


	4. Chapter 4

A terrified, blood-curdling scream. That was what woke Colette out of a deep sleep and made her bolt out of the bed. She realized that she was still in her gown from the night before, so she quickly threw on the second choice of the evening before, tying the ties as she ran out of her bedroom. It was still very early in the morning; the sun was just barely over the horizon and the lanterns were still dimmed from the night. She joined the crowd that had gathered at the stage, looking down at a lifeless body of a seamstress who she had only met briefly at the gala the night before. She had a bottle in her hand, still lightly gripping the neck, even though she had no breath left in her body. Lucy came over shortly after Colette had arrived on the scene quickly breaking down and weeping. The crowd was soon joined by Andre, Firmin, the ballet mistress, and a constable. The constable made everyone move out of the way so he could examine the body, shaking his head as he tried to find a cause of death. Colette glanced over at the ballet mistress, noticing that she was looking around the stage as if she was searching for something. She hadn't met the ballet mistress yet, although she could hear her instructing the dancers backstage prior to the Hannibal rehearsal. She had black hair and it was tied up in a braided bun, and she always wore black. She carried a cane around with her and she used it to keep the tempo for the dancers when they didn't have any music to dance to. Colette looked up to the catwalks, looking for a sign of the Phantom, but only saw the stage hands looking at the scene below, including Buquet who was in the middle, giving Colette a fiendish-like grin. She shook her head, turning her attention back to the scene as more policemen arrived to help with the situation.

"I've never seen anything like it," the constable said as he stood up from the body while another man covered it with a sheet. "The only visible injury that I see on her is two puncture wounds to the neck, but there's no blood and there's no other manner of injury."

"Could she have died from drinking too much," Firmin asked, looking at the constable after looking at the body.

"I don't see how, unless she aspirated on her own vomit, but there would even be vomit or remnants of it on the stage. Her manner of death will have to be investigated further. At this time, I'm pretty sure you have a homicide on your hands."

Colette shook her head, retreating to her room, but something caught her eye in a corridor. She stopped, taking a moment to look where she saw the shadow. When she didn't see anything, she walked down the corridor, seeing only darkness. She felt a gloved hand on her shoulder, nearly screaming until the other hand covered her mouth to muffle the sound of her scream. "Don't scream," the voice said, and she relaxed immediately. She recognized the voice; it was the voice of the Opera Ghost. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you; I just wanted to speak to you before the owners have you jumping to conclusions. The only thing that I ask you is to not turn around. Do you understand?" She nodded, and he lowered his hand from her mouth, but he kept her back to him. She longed to see him, and to touch him, but being against his hard chest was good enough for the moment. She released a long breath, feeling better with every passing moment. "The owners will probably speak to you in private about this matter later, but there have been many accidents that have been caused by me when others don't listen to me."

"What kind of accidents," she whispered in reply, glancing every now and again to watch for anyone passing by.

"People have fallen with ropes around their neck; mostly stagehands. Trust me; it gets their attention more than you think. The owners would love to say that their opera house is safe and not haunted by a ghost with a grudge from time to time, but they know better to deny me."

"So why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I trust you. I wouldn't have told you this otherwise, and other people are going to claim that the Opera Ghost murdered that poor seamstress for some reason or another. I believe that there is something more evil afoot, and trust me, I'm evil but I'm also generous. I just wanted you to know that I didn't do this, and I hope you believe me."

"O.G., I do believe you, and I won't say otherwise. I promise."

"Good. Now, because I can trust you and I can hold you to your promise, I will give you something in return."

Her heart leapt. She immediately thought that she was going to see him. Or maybe he was going to take her where he lived or his favorite hideout. She shook her head, deciding that being modest would be the way to go here. "You don't have to give me anything, O.G. You know that you have my loyalty and I hope that I have yours."

"My name is not O.G."

She cocked her head to the side, turning her head slightly as if to look at him, but he turned it back, holding his hand to the back of her neck to keep her still. "You have a name?"

"Of course, even though my mother didn't name me. It was someone who saved my life. Because I have your loyalty, I will give you my name."

"What is it?"

"Erik," he whispered under the approaching footsteps of people. "My name is Erik." He released her and she stumbled out into the light, immediately being noticed by the managers. She turned back to where he was, but as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. The managers approached and each of them took her by the arm, walking them to the office.

"We were wondering where you had run off to," Andre said as he opened the door to the office, inviting her to sit down. "I'm so sorry you had to see Mary's body. Sorry that anyone had to see it. I'm sure that it wasn't what you were expecting when you came here, Mademoiselle Harker."

"I will admit that it was a bit shocking, but I will move on from it. Do you know what happened to her yet?"

"No," Firmin said as he shut the door to the office, going to join Andre behind the desk. "That's something that the police are going to have to investigate. I don't mean to be morbid, but all of the other accidents have been self-explanatory."

"Look, Mademoiselle Harker," Andre interjected, sitting down to speak with her, "we haven't been fully honest with you, and for that, we apologize."

She played the part very well. She looked at them curiously, folding her hands in her lap. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm sure that you've heard the whispers of the people around her about a ghost that lurks throughout the opera house."

"Yes, but I'm not sure of what that has to do with me."

"Well, this person, this Opera Ghost we call him among other names, has a lot of influence with what we do here. This influence covers a number of areas, including the accidents that have occurred here in the past and the hiring of you."

"But…why would he want to hire me? Or why would he want you to hire me?"

"Well, obviously, your canvases are gorgeous. He must have seen them somehow, or maybe he knew of your family?"

Colette thought for a moment. Obviously, Andre and Firmin were fishing for how much she knew about Erik. She knew that she didn't meet him prior to the letters or prior to coming here. She would have remembered seeing him and meeting him. Then, she remembered the letters. She had saved every letter that he had written her. Was it possible that they found them somehow? She realized that they were waiting, and she cleared her throat, preparing to reply. "I knew all of my family's friends, and I do not recall meeting anyone from Paris recently with the exception of coming here. I'm happy to be here, and I couldn't ask for anything more at this time."

The two nodded and Firmin reached into the desk, pulling out a parcel of money. He counted out 1,000 francs, handing them to her. "I hope that this will suffice for your services for now. We will let you know what the next show will be."

She nodded, taking the francs and placing them in her parcel, standing up and leaving the office. She went back to her room and opened the door, seeing a large bouquet of roses sitting on her vanity. She smiled, finding a card beside it. She opened it and read it, sitting in her vanity chair.

"I hope to see you again soon.

-V"

She smiled, discreetly biting her lip as she set the card down, moving to put her money away. She sighed softly, stretching and yawning. She moved around her room, getting her sketch pad and charcoal pencils out, starting to sketch her image of the Opera Ghost. The only thing that she could hope for was that she would see him again.

A few days later, Colette had finished the sketch and sat at her vanity, staring at the image that she had drawn. Erik was there, standing above the catwalk, holding onto the ropes, covered by shadow. He was dressed in a fedora, tuxedo, and cape, all in black. Since she never saw his face, she made sure that he was hidden by the shadows. Below on the stage was a diva, which she made to look like Christine Daae, the young girl who had taken the stage only nights before. She wasn't sure why the diva turned out to be here, but that's just what she saw in her mind. She set the sketch down on the bed, retreating from her room to go and explore the opera house again.

When she left, Erik slid the mirror open and began to snoop around. He had watched her work on the sketch for three days, not know that she had drawn him. He noticed the bouquet of roses, seeing the card sitting beside it. He read over it, pondering over who V was. He would have to eavesdrop on the managers later to see if they dropped a name. He looked over on the bed, seeing the sketch pad on her bed. He picked it up, gazing it at it. There he was, engulfed in shadow, watching his love as she sang her aria for the first time in front of an audience. Colette really did have a great talent, and she obviously had some sort of attraction to him, but his focus was Christine, as it always had been. Nothing or no one would ever make him change that. However, Colette was very pretty. She would have no trouble finding a husband, especially here in Paris. He heard her voice and Lucy's as well coming down the corridor. He quickly placed the sketch pad back where it was, slipping back into the mirror and closing it. He stayed behind the mirror, watching the two and listening to their conversation.

"Il Muto is the next opera," Lucy said as Colette opened the door, both of them coming into the room. "The basic idea of it is this Countess is cheating on her husband with a boy who is a mute. It's really a comical opera. Audiences generally like this one."

"Well, it sounds like I have my work cut out for me this time around," Colette replied as she sat at her vanity, taking her hair down from her bun. He swallowed as her hair cascaded down her shoulders and she shook her head lightly, running her fingers through it. How could he be attracted to someone like her when his heart already belonged to another? "I have to paint a bedroom and a forest this time. I don't know how I'm going to get it done in time."

"You'll find a way. You finished the night sky for Hannibal in one night. I'm sure that the forest won't be so bad."

"The forest has a lot more detail than the night sky does," she replied as she pinned half of her hair back, checking over her reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to glance back at the full mirror behind her to see how her hair looked in the back. "You have trees, flowers, plants, grace, and possibly animals."

Lucy shrugged, picking up the sketch pad and looking at the sketch that Colette had drawn. "Is this the Opera Ghost," she asked, showing Colette the sketch, who nodded as she continued to fix her hair. "This is really good. When did you draw this?"

"I just finished it today, but I started it a few days ago. Do you really like it?"

"I do, yes. But, Colette, why didn't you draw his face?"

She turned to her while she sat at the vanity, unpinning her hair again to braid it and pin it back up. "Because I don't know what he looks like. Besides, I would rather that his looks remain a mystery to me. That's what I like about him from what I've heard of him."

Lucy just grinned. "I'm taking you to the dancer's quarters tonight. Buquet always likes to scare us with his tales of the Opera Ghost. He's the only one who has seen him face to face."

"No, I'd rather not," she said, kind of shrugging the idea of hearing stories about Erik. "Besides, I better get to work on those canvases."

"You have time," Lucy said, standing up and taking Colette's hand after she had finished fixing her hair, pulling her up to make her stand as well. "You're coming with me."

Lucy pulled her out of the room and led her to the dancers' quarters, where the dancers were getting ready for bed for the evening. Lucy asked for one of them to go get Buquet while they sat Colette on the bed, grinning and giggling. Gossip was filling the room about Christine Daae, the Opera Ghost, the next opera and Count de Maurier. Soon, the dancer came back with Buquet, who was carrying a rope that was tied into a noose, grinning from ear to ear as he shrieked at the girls, making them squeal and jump away from him. Colette, however, didn't do a thing. She just sat there, watching as Buquet terrorized the girls, ending up at her.

**Like yellow parchment is his skin**  
 **A great black hole serves as the nose which never grew** ****  


Colette shook her head and she stood up, moving to leave the room. Buquet wrapped the rope around her, pulling her back to him. She nearly gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath, struggling to get free, which only made him pull her closer.

**You must be always on your guard**  
 **Or he will catch you with his magical lasso** ****  


As he tried to kiss her, someone pulled them apart, grabbing the rope from him. When Colette looked up, she saw that it was the ballet mistress, who was now gathering the rope up in her hands.

_Those who speak of what they know_  
 _Find too late that prudent silence is wise_ __  


She then turned to Buquet, who was just standing there, watching her. She slapped him, then moved the noose around his neck and tightened it.

_Joseph Buquet, hold your tongue_  
 _He will burn you with the heat of his eyes…_ __  


Colette quickly retreated from the room, feeling her skin crawl at the thought of Buquet even trying to touch her. The only thing she wanted to do was to get back to her room and wash up at her basin. "Mademoiselle Harker," a voice called to her as she walked down the corridor. She looked up, seeing Count de Maurier. She stopped, smiling at him and curtseying politely. He, in turned, bowed and took her hand, kissing the top of it. "I was hoping that I would see you again before the next opera."

"Count de Maurier, it's nice to see you again," she said with a kind smile, blushing lightly as he kissed the top of her hand. He smiled at her before dropping it, removing his top hat. "I hope that you have been well."

"I have been very well, thank you for asking. May we walk?" When she nodded, he offered his arm and she took it, walking down the corridor with him. "I hope you got the flowers I sent."

"I did, and they were very beautiful. Thank you. How did you know that roses were my favorite?"

He just smiled, patting her on the hand. "I wanted to ask you something at the gala, but I didn't get a chance because I had to retire early. Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but you're not betrothed to anyone back in London, are you?"

She shook her head, holding onto his arm. "No, and I'm not seeing anyone here. Why do you ask?"

"Well," he said as they came to her room, stopping at the door. "I am new to this city, just as you are, and I'll be seeing a lot more of you since I'm going to be a patron of this opera house. I was wondering if you would do me the honor of courting you."

She blushed darkly, leaning up against the doorframe, looking down at her feet. "I hardly know you."

"All the more reason. We can get to know each other better while I'm courting you."

"I'm not sure," she said meekly, continuing to look at her feet. He placed two fingers beneath her chin, raising her face to look at him. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear.

"Colette, I think you're the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen. I'll reach a compromise with you. Be my guest to the next opera. If you have a good time, then we'll begin courting. I promise I won't let anything happen to you." He leaned down, breathing on the nape of her neck, which made her knees nearly buckle beneath her. She could only give a nod and he smiled, pulling away from her. "I'll see you before the opera. Goodnight, Mademoiselle Harker." He took her hand once more and kissed the top of it before departing, leaving Colette against the doorframe. As she tried to find her feet on the ground again, she felt like she was still floating on air. She closed and locked the door to her room, changing for bed. She couldn't get her mind off of the count. Could this really be it? Had she found someone already to spend the rest of her life with? And what about Erik? She was attracted to him as well. These were all things that would have to be decided later. She pulled off her corset and pulled a clean slip on, crawling into bed, finding herself restless for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Late one night, Colette was painting on the stage, working on the forest scene of Il Muto. She had been working on it for two days, all through the night into the early morning hours so no one would bother her. She kept thinking about the upcoming performance and her date with Count de Maurier, wondering what she needed to expect. She also kept thinking about Erik, wondering where he was over the last few days. She hadn't received any notes, nor heard his voice. While she was putting the final touches on the forest, she felt like she wasn't alone. She put her brush down, turning around and seeing the ballet mistress standing behind her, observing her work. She stood up, smoothing out her dress and curtseying politely.

"You don't have to do that," the ballet mistress spoke, walking over to the canvas, checking on her work while Colette put her pallet down on the stool beside her. "You do have a great talent. I can see why he chose you. I am Madame Antoinette Giry, the ballet mistress here at the Opera Populaire."

Colette blinked, looking over at the ballet mistress. She looked at her curiously, moving her hands behind her back. "Colette Harker; pleased to make your acquaintance. You know him?"

"Of course I know him. I've known him for years," she replied, turning to look at her. "I would be careful about what you choose to do for him, no matter if you think he will like it or not. We wouldn't want the lovely artiste to have an accident."

"Is that a threat," Colette asked her, moving to pick the pallet back up and get back to work.

"No, just a warning. His moods can have great differences if he becomes angry or if he isn't pleased. Just watch your step, Madame Artiste. I'm only telling you this so you will be careful and not careless."

"Well, I'm sorry Madame, but you will not intimidate me with mere warnings of his actions and emotions. I believe that he is a good person, no matter of the things that he has done or will do. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to finish my work." She sat back down on the stool that she was sitting on before she was interrupted, continuing her work.

"He will never be yours if that's what you're going for," Madame Giry said in harsh tone as she began to walk away. "His heart already belongs to another, and nothing will change that." With that final word, she walked off, her footsteps fading into the darkness. Colette waited until she was gone and she hung her head, rubbing her eyes. She wasn't sure why Madame Giry had approached her to tell her to tell her that information. Maybe it was because she wanted her attention to focus on the Count. Possibly it was because so Erik could focus on the love that he had for this person that he had given his heart to. This new development was affecting her work; she found that she couldn't paint because she was unable to focus. Just as she was about to stop for the night, a white envelope floated down from the dark rafters above, landing on the floor beside her. She set her pallet down, leaning down to pick up the envelope. She saw it was sealed with a red skull, and she knew it was from Erik. She opened it quickly, reading it over.

" _My Dear Colette,  
_ _Please forgive me for not contacting you over the last few days. I have been busy as you will soon find out. I know you have been busy as well with painting the canvases for the next opera. I have to apologize for Antoinette. She is very protective of me, even though she knows that I can take care of myself. As for my heart belonging to another, that is true, but that doesn't mean that the person who has my heart will keep it. Now, I must go, but you will hear from me again soon.  
_ _Yours,  
_ _Erik"_ __  


She smiled and folded the letter up, slipping it into her dress. She finished the forest within a few hours, smiling at how proud she was of her work. She gathered her painting supplies and her lantern that she was using for light, heading to a basin to wash her things off. She didn't realize that she wasn't alone. As she poured the water over her brushes in the bowl, she heard someone walking up behind her. She grabbed her pallet, turning around quickly as the footsteps drew closer. There, only a few feet away, was Buquet. He had been watching her all night, she assumed. He stopped as she turned around, grinning at her in an evil way. She could tell that he was drunk and he was looking for something or someone to have his way with. And he had found her.

"I have to admit that you're a hard person to find," he slurred as he began to approach her again. She backed away, still holding the pallet. "You've been hiding from me since you came here. Now, you really have no where you to run."

"Mr. Buquet, you are quite wrong," she replied as she moved around him. He continued to move closer, nearly at arm's length now. "I would be careful about what you do or say around me. I have friends in high places."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. One of them being your friend, the Count?"

"Yes, he would be one of them, as well as the Opera Ghost."

Buquet guffawed, throwing the empty bottle to the ground, lunging at her. She narrowly escaped, moving behind the table where the basin was. "The Opera Ghost is your friend? That deformed monster that everyone fears? I'll believe that when I see it!" He lunged at her again, this time grabbing ahold of her and pushing her to the floor. Colette fought and kicked at him. When he rose up to start tearing off her dress, she smacked him in the head with her pallet, shattering it into pieces. This knocked him off balance enough where she able to crawl and get away from him, starting to run. From the footsteps that she heard behind her, he was following her. The corridors were dark, only dimly lit by the lamps that hung above her on the walls. She turned a corner and hid in the dark, watching as he passed by her, not even noticing that she was hidden behind one of the sets of Il Muto. When the footsteps faded, she bolted, finding a set of stairs. She took them, continuing to look for a place to hide. When she heard the footsteps again, she took the stairs to the roof, sneaking out quickly and quietly, closing the door behind her. She took refuge behind the angel statue, sitting on the cold roof and curling up as best as she could to keep warm.

Colette couldn't understand why Buquet wanted to be with her so badly. The only reason that she could think of was that she was someone new, someone that he could easily badger into being with him. However, Colette was a strong and yet, modest person. She would never give up her honor that easily, and to someone that awful. She was saving her honor for someone that she truly loved, such as her future husband. However, she didn't know who that would be, and she had her whole life ahead of her. There was no need to find a husband now. At least, so she thought.

As the temperature began to drop, Colette realized that she was on the roof with no shawl or cape, and with nothing to do to occupy her time. She didn't know how long she had been up on the roof, but it was becoming colder and snow was just beginning to fall. She shivered lightly as she curled up even tighter, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying to keep warm. She sighed softly, closing her eyes, slowly drifting off.

As Erik arrived on the roof after looking for Colette for two hours, he found her huddled in a ball behind the angel statue. His breathing seized, fearing the worst until he saw her move, breathing a sigh of relief. He went over to her, taking his cloak off and wrapping it around her before picking her up. She felt the new source of heat, curling up to him. "You silly girl," he whispered to her, carrying her inside and down to his home through the secret passages of the opera house. "Why would you want to hide up there?" He cradled her close, finding his way while carrying her, placing her in the gondola and rowing across the lake. He watched her breath slowly as she curled up in his cloak, sleeping soundly. Once they got to his home, he picked her up out of the boat and carried her to his bed, laying her down gently and covering her up. "You should sleep soundly now, and you should warm up soon also. I'll play your lullaby that I wrote for you. That should give you pleasant dreams." He brushed her hair back with his gloved hand, moving away from her after a few moments of watching her, going over to his organ and playing her lullaby. A soft, luscious melody that was beautiful, and she would love once she heard it for real.


	6. Chapter 6

When Colette came to, she felt the bed. It wasn't hers. The sheets weren't hers either. She slowly opened her eyes, finding herself in a completely different area of the opera house. And she immediately got scared. She sat up in bed, looking around at her surroundings. The bed that she was on was a canopy bed, hidden from sight. She smelled musty water and burning wax, finding that she was underground. She stood up from the bed, taking her hair down and walking around. She found herself in the catacombs beneath the city, but someone had made this place their home. She took a moment to listen to the sounds that she heard. The first thing that she heard was an orchestra playing above them. So she was still near the opera house; she was just below it. The next thing she heard was papers being turned and someone humming softly. She followed this sound out of the corridor, moving along the wall, finding who was creating the sounds that she heard.

Sitting at an organ in Persian style robes was a man. She hid herself from him so she could observe him. From what she could see, he was a very handsome man, tall, and dark hair. His body was lean, but muscular; she could tell that he was very strong, and he was young. His eyes were an electric blue, and he was wearing a mask on the right side of his face. He was writing something, possibly a note or some music perhaps. She held her breath when she realized who she was in the presence of. That man, the beautiful man who was sitting at the organ was Erik, the Opera Ghost. He looked up from his manuscript paper and she turned, moving to where her back was pressed against the stone wall of the bedroom and she was hidden once again. She slowly let out a breath and closed her eyes, thinking that she wasn't discovered. Until she opened her eyes again and found him standing in front of her. She swallowed, running her hand through her hair, unsure of what to say. For a while, they just stood there and stared at each other, both of them trying to find the words to express a greeting or some sort of explanation as to what happened the night before. "I assume that I don't need an introduction," he spoke gently, offering his hand to her. She took it slowly, and he raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. "Welcome to my home, Colette," he said, still holding her hand while he led her out into the main part of his domain. She gasped softly, taking in the beauty of everything that he had.

Besides the organ where he composed his music as a small replica of the stage, with models of the actors and actresses, as well as the ballet corp. There were sketches of costume and set designs and corridors of the opera house. When he let her go, she went and examined the figurines of the people, finding on of Christine Daae, the diva from a few nights before. She put her down, going over to his sketches, looking them over. They were more like maps, where he could go and observe the stage hands and the opera performances. She put them down, going over to something that caught her eye. To her right, next to the organ, was a mirror with no glass and a mannequin on the other side. The mannequin was wearing a beautiful white wedding dress and veil, and had long curly brown locks. It didn't take her long to figure out that this mannequin looked like Christine Daae. She walked over to the organ, looking over the manuscript paper, reading the music that he had written. When she looked up again, Erik was watching her. He was only observing her actions and reactions to the items that she found, not saying a word. She looked down, seeing a piece of paper with her name on it. She picked up, seeing the title with the music. It read 'Colette's Lullaby.' She smiled softly, looking up at him. "You wrote this for me," she asked softly, showing him the music. He came over, walking briskly and taking the music from her. She took a step back as he put the music back on the piano. It was as if he didn't want her to see it. "I'm sorry," she apologized, staying a few paces away from him. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just saw my name and…"

"It's all right," he replied, coming over to her and taking her hand again. "Come, let's go to the parlor. I have some food that you can have before I take you back up."

She nodded, walking with him. "You've lived down here a long time," she observed as they returned to the bedroom, walking through it to get to the parlor.

"Since I was a small child," he replied, pulling a chair out for her before going to get some fruit for her to eat. "That's why Antoinette is so protective of me; she's the one who rescued me."

"I just don't understand why she would be so rude towards me," she said softly, thanking him as he brought her some fruit and began to make some tea. "After everything that you did to bring me here."

"She just doesn't want me to lose focus on what I was originally setting out to do," he comforted, sitting down across from her, watching her eat.

"I suppose that involves Miss Daae," she asked, after swallowing a grape, looking at him.

"Yes, it involves Christine. I suppose I can't hide it from you any longer, since you are here in my home. I'm in love with Christine. I have been for a long time. I've also been training her to sing and take over as the diva here at the Opera Populaire. I want to be with her, but that boy…"

When he stopped talking, she heard the tea kettle whistling. When he moved to get up, she put her hand up to stop him, taking care of it for him. "When you say that boy, you mean the Vicomte de Changey?"

"Yes," he said as she poured him some tea before pouring her own. "He basks in her glory and they're in love. But I hope to change that."

"Has she seen you," she asked, sitting back down in her chair.

"Many times in shadow, but for the first time in person only a few days ago. Do you recall the days that she was missing? She was down here with me."

She nodded, eating a bit more fruit. "Do you believe that she cares for you?"

"I believe that she does," he said, suddenly becoming distant. "Because of this," he said, indicating his mask, "she won't come near me now. She fears me."

Colette thought for a moment, and then remembered the words that Buquet had said to her and the other girls. The rhyme came to mind, then what he said to her. "I have to ask because now my curiosity is aroused. Your face…is it…"

"From birth," he said softly, his hand touching the mask lightly. "I have scars and burns on this face, and it would give you nightmares if you saw that I really looked like underneath this mask. I'm a monster."

"Erik, I know that I will have to earn your trust, but I would like to paint you sometime. Fully, with no mask, if that would be all right?"

"No, I'm not going to let you do that," he said, standing up and coming over to her. "No one needs to see what I look like, including you. This is the end of that discussion."

He towered over her; she realized that now. She looked up at him, swallowing lightly. She turned her attention to her plate, suddenly losing her appetite. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin, moving to stand up, putting her hands on the table. "Well, I suppose I better go. Now, how do I get back up to the opera house?"

"You can't go back up alone," he told her, taking her hand again as he led her to the boat. "You'll get lost."

He placed her in the boat gently and slowly before getting in, pushing off the shore with the pole he used to steer. For what seemed like hours, they were both silent. Colette observed the statues that were etched into the stone walls of the catacombs, occasionally glancing back at her host. She did find him to be very handsome, despite his mask. She was sure that she would get the opportunity to paint him, but that would depend on him. Secretly, she wished that Christine didn't choose him to be with and leave with Raoul as soon as she got a chance. Her mind soon traveled to the Count, wondering what was in store for her this evening at the opera. She had to find the perfect outfit, as well as bathe and do her hair. She shook her head of it, deciding to take it all one step at a time when the time came. They soon came to a stop on the other side of the lake. "It's a long walk up," he advised as he got out, holding his hand out to her. "I hope you're up for the long trek." She slowly took his hand, and he helped her out of the boat. As she set one foot on the hard surface, her other foot caught the edge of the boat, causing her to stumble. She tried to catch herself, but found that she had fallen into his chest and he caught her, holding her to him. "Are you all right," he asked, helping her to stand.

"Yes, I'm all right," she replied, smoothing out her skirt with her free hand as they began the walk up to her room. "I assume that you have a lot of influence in this place? I mean, you've killed people, and you're obviously making money because of this."

"I am not being paid 20,000 francs just to kill people to prove that there's hell to pay when my demands are not met," Erik replied with a tone of frustration, gripping her hand as he pulled her along. "I'm paid for my ideas and it keeps me alive."

"Oh, I see. I apologize; I didn't mean to offend you. I just…I don't understand why you brought me here, let alone how you found me, and I don't understand why that awful man is after me all of the time."

"Awful man," he asked, stopping to look at her.

"Yes. It's that Joseph Buquet. He's the reason why I went to hide on the roof last night. He was…well, I think you have an idea of what he was wanting."

His grip slowly released as his face changed from stern and hard to soft and understanding. He only nodded and they began the walk up again. "He tries to do that with all of the new girls, and sometimes he succeeds and other times, he will just move on. I will take care of him; don't worry."

"I'm not asking you to take care of him," she said softly. "However, I do wish that he could be fired or something."

"You will find that my influence is great, Colette," he said as they turned a corner, finally on some level ground. From here, she could hear the pattering of the ballet slippers through the walls and the orchestra playing nearby. "When you return to your room, I'm sure that the managers will find you as soon as they can. However, I'm sure that they are dealing with some things that I have set into motion at the moment, so there may be some tension. I did lock your door from the inside so you wouldn't be bothered and so they wouldn't know that you were missing."

"But I wasn't missing. I was with you."

"No one can know where you really were," he said to her as they came to her mirror. "If they knew where I dwelled, the consequences of this knowledge would be dire. Swear to me that you will never reveal the location of my home."

"I swear," she said as she looked into his eyes, still holding his hand. He nodded, and slid open the mirror for her to step through. She looked at her room, then back at him, still holding his hand. "Why did you to find me? What was so endearing about me that you convinced the managers to hire me?"

"That is a conversation for another time," he replied, helping her to step into her mirror. "Be careful and watch yourself. I still believe that there is evil afoot here. Be mindful of who you trust." He kissed the top of her hand once more before releasing her, closing the mirror. Colette sighed softly, her heart beating against her chest wildly. What was it about Erik that made her so warm and safe? Why was it that the Count made her feel the same way? She undressed from the night before and freshened up, applying a hint of make-up after putting on a clean dress. When no one came to her door, she figured that everyone was too busy. She decided to go for a walk and check on the sets and canvases that she had painted to make sure that they were being placed correctly on the stage. She opened the door slowly, finding everyone was bustling by quickly and not bothering to say hello. She shrugged it off, walking towards the stage. As she passed the managers' office, she could hear multiple voices arguing over the next opera.

"I am leaving," a woman screeched at the top of her lungs in a heavy Italian accent. Colette planted herself by the door, listening to the conversation. "I will not be upstaged by that little Daae brat! She doesn't have the voice that I have!"

"Madame Carlotta, please be reasonable," Firmin pleaded with her, moving around in the office. "Do you really want another accident to happen? You know what O.G. said; a disaster beyond our imagination will occur!"

"I don't care! I'm going on that stage and you will make that little girl the mute or I walk!"

"If you don't heed his warnings," Madame Giry interjected, "you know that he will do something. I would think that you wouldn't want another accident to happen. You never know, Carlotta. Something could happen to you, or to your beloved Piangi."

"That's enough!" Andre shouted, causing all yelling and arguing to cease. "Carlotta's going on as the Countess, and I don't want to hear anything more about it! Miss Daae will be playing the Page Boy, the silent role."

Colette swallowed hard, worried about everyone involved in the opera, including herself. What kind of accident was going to occur during the opera tomorrow night at the opera? She didn't want to bring herself to find out, but she knew that she had to attend because she was going on a date with the Count and she had to make herself presentable and undistracted. Which was going to difficult with her mind being on Erik.


	7. Chapter 7

The next night, Colette sat in her room, staring at the sketch that she had drawn of Erik and Christine. She wasn't even close to being ready for her date with the Count, and she only had a few hours to go until the performance. She couldn't get her mind off of Erik. She was worried about what he was going to do since Carlotta was taking over the role of the Countess and Christine was playing the mute. She had already seen a touch of his anger. However, she wondered how far he could go. She moved the drawing aside and sighed heavily, placing her head in her hands. How could she stop this? Was there even a way to stop it? After a few moments, there was a knock at her door. She brought her head up and stood, wrapping her robe around her before answering the door. On the other side stood the Count, darned in the concert attire that he wore that first evening that they met at the gala. His hair was pulled back as it usually was, and he was growing a goatee which made him look even more dashing than before. "You're not ready," he observed, not moving as he stood and watched her. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, running her hand through her hair. "I'm sorry that I'm not ready. I've been a little preoccupied lately."

"Yes, you have. You were painting day and night for the last two weeks."

"How do you –"

"I've been speaking with the managers. They've been keeping me updated on your progress and how you're adjusting here."

"Well, thank you," she said softly, moving to open the door a little more, still holding her robe closed around her. "You're early. The opera doesn't begin for another few hours."

"I know. I have dinner waiting for us nearby. That is, if you would like to join me."

She nodded. "I'm famished. Just give me a few minutes to get ready and I'll be right out."

He nodded, bowing politely and moving away from the door. She closed it, sighing softly. She went over to her closet after she took her robe off, taking a dark purple gown out and laying it on the bed. She looked towards the mirror before starting to take off her slip, as if she were checking to see if he was there. She undressed and washed herself at the basin and rinsing out her hair so she could fix it. She moved to dress in a clean slip and pulled on a corset, cursing softly as she tried to tie it herself, realizing that she would be unsuccessful. "You need to quit being silly," a voice said behind her. She jumped, covering herself as she turned around. Erik was standing there, shaking his head. "No, I didn't see you unclothed. I just got here and saw that you were having difficulty with your corset. Turn around; I'll tie it for you." She nodded, turning around and placing her hands on the footboard of the bed, holding on as he pulled tight. "I see you have an escort for tonight. Who is he?"

"Count Vladimir de Maurier. He's one of the new patrons this season."

"That's odd," Erik commented as he pulled tighter, causing Colette to catch her breath and hold onto the footboard even more. "I don't remember him meeting with the managers."

"That's all I know," she said through strained breath as Erik tied the back of it, patting her on the shoulder to let her know that he was finished. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "He's very handsome. However, I'm not sure what to think of him."

"Well, you have every right to be happy," he said to her has he handed her the dress so she could put it on. "I need you to promise me something about tonight."

"Anything," she said as she pulled the dress over her head, finding her way through the fabric as Erik helped her.

"No matter what happens, don't come looking for me tonight."

"What? But Erik -"

"Colette, please," he pleaded with her, taking the ties to the back of the dress and tying it quickly. "I can't guarantee what the consequences of my actions will be tonight, but I don't need you trying to find me and getting yourself hurt. Please, promise me."

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not going to promise that," she said as she pulled away from him, finishing tying the dress at her vanity. "You're my friend and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You just have to learn to trust me more with promises that I give you my word on."

"You will learn not to defy me," he said in a harsh and cold tone, leaving as quickly as he came, closing the mirror behind him. She sighed, shaking her head as she braided and pinned her hair up. Erik confused her so much. First, he would be kind, understanding, and almost loving towards her at times. Then, as quickly as he would show a hint of caring towards her, he would turn cold and heartless and didn't seem to care about what she did. She pulled her shoes on, touched up with a hint of make-up, and checked herself over in the mirror, deciding that this was the best that she could do. She stood and grabbed her parcel, going to the door and opening it. The Count was standing there, waiting patiently with his back to her. She closed her door and approached him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He turned around and smiled at her, his eyes having a certain intoxicating glow about them. She swallowed, folding her hands in front of her. He approached her slowly, moving to take her hand and kiss the top of it, smiling at her.

"I'm sorry if this isn't appropriate," she said to him nervously, nearly quivering as he touched her hand. "It was all I had."

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied, wrapping her arm around his. "I think you look beautiful. Come, let's go to dinner."

He escorted her through the theater as they walked to the carriage outside. Everyone stared at them as they walked, making Colette feel self-conscious. She soon found herself gripping his arm as tightly as she could, which made him stop and turn to her to make sure that she was all right. She stopped immediately, dropping her arm to her side. "I'm sorry," she said softly, glancing at the people around them. "I just don't like people staring at me, and that seems like that's all they have done since we stepped out into the theater."

He moved her hand to her cheek, pulling her close. As soon as he touched her, she immediately felt calm, melting into his touch. "They are staring because of jealousy. I'm with the most beautiful young woman in the world, and what they have cannot compare to your beauty and grace, Colette. And you shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"How can you know to make me feel so relaxed when I feel the most insecure?"

"Let's just say that it's a gift," he smiled, moving aside as he opened the carriage door for her, helping her inside. As she got in, he looked up to the roof of the Opera Populaire, grinning as if he could see someone watching them. He turned his attention back to her, getting into the carriage and closing the door.

As Erik watched the carriage drive off with Colette and this Count de Maurier inside, he knew that the Count had seen him. However, he wasn't sure how he knew that he was watching the two of them together, but it worried him. He knew then that he had to try and get into the managers' office and go through their files to figure out who this count was. Whoever he was, he didn't like him and didn't trust him at all.

Meanwhile, a few blocks away, Count de Maurier was sitting across from Colette in a private room away from prying eyes. There was food of all kinds surrounding them, and Colette could eat whatever she wanted to her heart's content. The Count watched her closely as she ate slowly and delicately, sending the waiter away to retrieve something. The dinner was quiet, and this was because of Colette. She wasn't really sure what to talk about with the Count. Compared to him, even though her family was wealthy and well known in London, she was a peasant and there was no point in communicating with the likes of him. He would think that she was incompetent and nothing but a painter, and that was all she would ever be. As she finished her plate, the waiter returned with a bottle of Absinthe, showing it to the Count and he nodded, smiling before. "Have you ever had Absinthe before," he asked her as the waiter moved to clear away the dishes that Colette used.

"I have to say that I have not," she replied as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin. The water brought over a pitcher of ice water, a slotted spoon, and a bowl of sugar cubes after clearing the plates away, offering to set it up for the Count, which he declined and sent the waiter away. "I haven't had any sort of drink, actually."

"Well, I have to tell you that you're in for an experience. Don't worry; I'll keep you on the ground." He smiled, pouring a small amount of Absinthe into a small glass.

"What exactly is Absinthe?"

"Absinthe is an aphrodisiac of the self," the Count replied as he placed the slotted spoon over the glass, then a sugar cube on the slotted spoon. "The green fairy who lives in the Absinthe wants your soul. But you are safe with me." He smiled again as he poured the water over the sugar cube, the bright green Absinthe now becoming cloudy and opaque. He picked up the sugar cube and offered it to her. She leaned forward and he placed it in her mouth. As soon as the sugar cube touched her tongue, she could taste the remnants of alcohol and she closed her mouth, his finger lightly touching her lips. She let the sugar cube melt in her mouth before taking the glass of Absinthe and sipping it slowly. She could feel the alcohol nearly flooding her mind immediately, swallowing the liquid and setting her glass down. "Tell me about yourself, Colette. I want to know everything about you."

Suddenly, she felt like an open book. Her walls were no longer up and she smiled at him. "I'm from London, which you know already. I'm only seventeen years old, the same age as the beautiful Christine Daae."

"What has brought you to Paris?"

"I was hired as the painter of the canvases for the Opera Populaire. You know that already also. What you don't know is about my family."

"Tell me about them."

"They're dead," she said coldly and with a voice full of hurt and anger, drinking more of the Absinthe, nearly downing the rest of it in one gulp. The Count shook his head, taking it out of her hand.

"You don't need that," he told her in a soft, gentle voice. He moved to her, taking her hands. "I can see that you're in pain from your family's death. Talk to me about it."

"No," she said simply, turning away from him to hide her tears. He turned her to look at him, moving his hand to her cheek, stroking it softly.

"You can't continue to bury your pain, Colette," he said to her, watching her. "Tell me about your family."

She sighed softly, looking down at her feet. "I had a mother and a father. I loved them with all of my heart. We traveled all over Europe, but our home was in London. About a year ago, they went out for dinner and…and they never came home. The police came to our house the next morning and said that they were in some sort of accident. What they think happened is that the horse was spooked by something and they couldn't slow down, causing the carriage to crash and overturn in the street. I came here to start a new life and to claim my family's fortune since my parents lived here just before I was born and put some money in a bank. From what I understand, it's an exceptional amount of money."

"The death of your parents must have been awful for you."

"It was," she said softly, folding her hands together. "I felt like I was alone for the longest time."

"How do you feel now," he asked as he wiped her tears with his thumb.

"I…I'm not sure how I feel about anything."

"I want to make you sure about what you feel," he said softly, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. He opened his hand, revealing diamonds that were there in place of her tears. "These are for you. I understand that it's going to take time for you to decide how you feel about me, but I'm here to tell you that I'm here for you and I will wait for you for as long as you need." He placed them in her hand, helping her to stand with her opposite hand, kissing it softly.

"How can you love me after knowing me for such a short time," she asked as she placed the diamonds in her parcel.

"I loved you from the first moment I saw you. I just want you to be mine, and only mine. Come along," he said as he took her hand, kissing it again, leading her outside. "We have an opera to attend."


	8. Chapter 8

After returning to the Opera Populaire, Colette had found herself completely enthralled with the Count. She didn't know what it was, but even though he was dark and mysterious, she also felt safe. This was strange considering that she hardly knew him, and he had already fallen in love with her after a few short weeks of knowing her. As they walked up to the opera boxes to find their seats, Colette soon found that they were going up to Box Five, which was Erik's box. "Count, while I'm sure that these are fantastic seats," Colette said as she stopped him, blocking the door to the box. "We can't sit here. These seats are already taken."

"By who," he asked, looking down at her. She bit her lip discreetly, looking down before looking back up again.

"I can't say, but I can tell you that these seats are reserved for someone very important. We can't sit here."

"Well, from what I understand, these seats were the only ones left and we are sharing them with the Vicomte de Changey. So I'm sure that this important person that you know won't mind." He moved her to open the door, moving aside to allow her to step in first. She bit her lip, not wanting to go into the box, but she soon felt a hand in the small of her back, guiding her inside. "I do have one favor I would like to ask of you before we sit down."

"What would that be?"

"Would you please call me by my name? I'll understand if you feel more comfortable calling me by my title, but if we're going to be courting I'd like you to call me by my name."

She nodded. "I understand, Vladimir."

He smiled and led her to her seat, allowing her to sit down before him. The Vicomte was sitting in front of them, turning around and smiling as they were seated. "Mademoiselle Artiste," he greeted as he took her hand, kissing the top of it. "How lovely to see you again. I trust you have been well?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte," she replied with a smile, nodding at him graciously. She felt Vladimir take her hand, holding it gently in his own. The Vicomte observed this, turning his attention to the Count.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you," he said, holding his hand out. "I'm Raoul, Vicomte de Changey. And you are?"

Vladimir looked down at his hand, putting his hand to shake with the Vicomte's. "I'm Count Vladimir de Maurier of Transylvania. I'm here as a patron to the Opera Populaire this season."

The Vicomte nodded in understanding as the overture began to play. "I hope you both enjoy the opera," he said before turning around, his attention now focused on the show. Colette's attention was focused everything but the Opera. She kept looking around nervously, wondering where Erik was, and if something was going happen. The Count could obviously see that she was nervous and unfocused. He moved his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her close and breathed on her neck quietly. She shivered as she felt his breath on her bare skin, closing her eyes.

"You need to calm down. There is nothing to be scared of." He kissed along her jawline, stopping at her lips. "Relax. I won't let anyone hurt you."

She nodded slightly, turning her attention to the stage. She was now focused on the opera; she wasn't sure how he did it, but she felt more comfortable and relaxed. As Christine was revealed from a maid to the Page Boy, Carlotta sang about how the boy made her laugh and that was why he was with him. Suddenly, one loud thundering voice halted the opera.

"Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?!"

Colette's breathing ceased and her whole body went rigid. Vladimir and the Vicomte stood, looking to see where the voice was coming from as the dancers and actors gasped and hid backstage. Their whispers and screams echoed throughout the theater. "He's here! The Phantom of the Opera," she heard one girl scream, who she recognized as Meg Giry, the ballet mistress's daughter. She moved up to the front of the box, thinking that maybe if Erik saw her somehow that all would be forgiven and he wouldn't so something drastic. "It's him," Christine said as she stared toward the back of the theater, her skin pale white. "I know it. It's him!" Carlotta grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back harshly. "Your part is silent, you little toad," Carlotta said to her, putting her hands on her hips and moving towards the maestro.

"A toad, Madame," Erik asked her, his voice even louder than before. "Perhaps it is you who are the toad."

Colette swallowed, looking towards the chandelier as his voice rattled the crystals that hung above them. Erik was somewhere in the theater, but she couldn't figure out where. As Vladimir took Colette by the hand and pulled her back to their seats, Carlotta instructed the maestro to begin the song again, taking her place once more. She fanned herself as she began to sing.

_Serafimo, away with this pretense_   
_You cannot speak_   
_But kiss me in my –_

_CROAK!_

The audience gasped and Carlotta placed a hand over her mouth, swallowing as Erik laughed darkly. The music began again and Carlotta slowly lowered her hand, beginning to sing again.

_Poor fool, he makes me laugh_   
_Hahahahaha!_   
_Ha – CROAK!_   
_Ha – CROAK!_

The audience began to laugh and Carlotta, who was completely mortified, panicked as she tried to find a way off of the stage. Erik laughed evilly, his laugh echoing over the music. "Look," he shouted, drawing the audience's attention to the chandelier which was shaking above the theater. "She's singing to bring down the chandelier!"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Firmin shouted from the box across the theater as the curtain closed. "We apologize for this incident. The performance will continue in ten minutes time when the role of the Countess will sung by Miss Christine Daae."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Andre said as he came through the curtain, holding the program for the opera. "In the meantime, we would like to give the ballet from Act…Three of tonight's opera. Maestro, bring the ballet forward." As the audience murmured, Andre looked around nervously. "The Ballet," he said again as he waited for the maestro to begin. When he didn't, Andre shouted, "NOW!" With that, the orchestra began to play and the curtain opened showing the dancers scattering to get to their places and the scenery changing as quickly as the stagehands could change it. Colette continued to look around while the ballet continued, fanning herself with her hand. What was Erik planning to do? Vladimir held onto her hand, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

"Was that the important person that you were talking about," he asked, his thumb stroking the top of her hand softly. "The one who usually sits in this box?"

"Yes," she replied softly, occasionally looking back towards the ballet. "He's very important. He has a lot of influence here."

"Have you met him?"

"Yes, I have."

"Tell me about him."

"Absolutely not," she said in a defiant tone. "He is my friend and I will not betray his trust."

Suddenly, screams erupted throughout the theater. Colette's eyes turned towards the stage and she gasped, moving to the front of the box as Raoul ran past her and out of the box. There, hanging above the stage with the own noose that he had made only nights before was Joseph Buquet, dead. "Ladies and gentlemen," Firmin shouted from the stage as the dancers scattered to the back. "Please remain in your seats! Do not panic! It was an accident; simply an accident!" Colette grabbed the skirt of her gown and took off in a run, quickly being followed by Vladimir who was calling after her. She didn't care; she had to find Erik. She had to try and talk some sense into him. She had just made it down the grand staircase as Vladimir grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to him. She struggled to get away from him, but he pulled her closer, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She soon felt them gliding across the floor and into a dark corridor, pinning her to the wall. "What are you," she screamed as he moved his hand to her neck, staring into her eyes. He spoke his reply in Romanian, whispering in her ear. She stopped struggling against him. "Who are you," she asked again, finding herself struggling to breathe a bit.

"I am Vladimir de Maurier," he replied as he kissed her earlobe, holding her more gently now since she wasn't fighting. "I am a Count, and I am the prince that you have been waiting for. Do not fear me, Colette."

"How can I not fear someone I don't know?"

"Because you don't open yourself to love since your parents died." He pulled away to look at her, his hand still on the back of her neck. She tried to deny it, but he shook his head. "You know that it's true, Colette. You need to let those walls down that you have built, and those you love in."

Her mind was flooded; she didn't know what to do. Vladimir was here, and he was holding her. He had shown nothing but kindness toward her and she was repaying him with nothing other than coldness. On the other hand, there was Erik. He had cared for her when she went to hide on the roof a few nights before, and he obviously cared for her on some level. But he was in love with Christine Daae. She remembered what had just happened. He probably did that for Christine and not for her. She looked at the Count, who was just watching her intently as she struggled with herself, as if he knew that she was struggling with her emotions and her feelings. "Colette," someone called from the dark, trotting over to them. She broke her attention away from the Count, turning and seeing Lucy, who was still in her ballet outfit from Act III. Lucy smiled as she approached them, holding the hand of a male patron that Colette didn't recognize. He seemed to be about the Count's age, with short brown hair, and was about the Count's height. When they got closer, Colette could tell that he wasn't from around here or from Europe for that matter. This was someone completely new. "Oh, I'm so glad I found you! I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, no. Not at all," Colette said in a soft voice. "Who is your friend?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Lucy smiled, holding her friend's hand. "This is Aiden Quincy Morris, and he's an American."

"A pleasure, miss," he greeted with a thick Western accent, taking Colette's hand and kissing the top of it. "Lucy has been kind enough to show me around the Opera Populaire while the show is still on hold."

Colette nodded, taking Vladimir's hand. "This is Count Vladimir de Maurier of Transylvania. Lucy, you remember him; he's the one who I spoke about at the gala."

She nodded, smiling, holding her hand out to him while Aiden watched, and studying the Count closely. "Of course I remember. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Count de Maurier."

Vladimir took her hand and kissed the top of it, smiling at Lucy. "The pleasure is all mine, Lucy."

She giggled lightly, pulling her hand away. "The opera should be resuming soon. They are closing off Box Five, but Firmin and Andre wanted me to let you know that you two could have their box. They have business to attend to regarding Buquet's death."

Colette nodded. "Thank you, Lucy. We'll be up there soon." Lucy nodded, taking the hint and dragging Aiden along back to the theater. Colette turned her attention back to the Count, holding his hand gently. "I'm sorry that I have been so cold to you," she began, looking down at her feet. "Please give me time. That's all I ask. There is another that I have grown to care for and he was before you, but his heart belongs to another."

He moved his fingers beneath her chin as the overture began to play once more, lifting her head so she would look at him. "I will give you as much time as you need, but that won't stop me from pursuing you. I want you to know that."

She nodded, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "We better get back. I can only hope that another disaster doesn't occur."

Vladimir took her arm and put it in his, escorting her back up the grand staircase, and to Box Three to watch the opera. For the rest of the evening, there were no more incidents, and Erik wasn't making his presence known. Christine performed to phenomenal standards, and during the curtain call she received a standing ovation. As Colette stood to applaud Christine, she looked up above the stage and saw Erik with a rapier, ready to cut the rope and release the chain that was supporting the chandelier. As he shouted some sort of word that she couldn't make out over the applause, he sliced through the rope and released the chain, causing the chandelier to descend at a near free-fall speed to the stage. Colette let out a scream, reaching for Erik, but Vladimir grabbed ahold of her to keep her from falling over the railing of the box. Christine was in the way of the chandelier until Raoul ran from the wings and pushed her out of the way just before the chandelier crashed to the stage. Overcome with shock and fear, Colette fainted back into Vladimir's arms. He caught her and cradled her. He picked her up and carried her through the chaos back to her room, laying her down on the bed. He sat there for a few moments, contemplating on how easy it would be for him to just take her and make her his, but he knew that the timing wasn't right. Besides, that Lucy looked luscious enough to drink from for the time being. He kissed Colette on the forehead, bidding her a goodnight through whispers, and leaving shortly after.


	9. Chapter 9

A few hours later, all was quiet with the exception of the clean-up that was occurring on the stage as stagehands and any other able-bodied individuals tried to clear away what was left of the chandelier. Colette slowly opened her eyes, her head heavy and pounding as she slowly sat up in her bed. She found herself in her bedroom, and she was alone. She remembered fainting just after the chandelier crashed onto the stage. Vladimir must have caught her and carried her back to the bedroom. She stood slowly and began to undress, closing her eyes as she listened to the sounds around her. Low conversations and a few people passing by were the only sounds that she heard. Then, an organ, being played fervently in the distance. She looked towards her mirror as she hung her dress up in the closet, leaving her black corset and stockings on as she pulled on a black robe, tying it tightly. After locking the door, she took her hair down and ran her fingers through it, going to her mirror. She placed her hands on the mirror and slid it open, stepping inside and closing it. She walked down through the dimly lit corridor, leaving her hand on the wall to guide her. The further down she walked, the louder the organ became. She came to the lake, but the boat was nowhere in sight. She wondered how she was going to get across to his home. She rolled the sleeve up on her arm and felt the water, feeling the bottom. It was shallow enough for her to wade through to the other side. She sighed softly and got into the water, cringing at the thought of what floated through there. She began to wade through the water, listening to the organ being played so angrily. What was going on with him? She came to the gate and went under, swimming beneath it to get to his home on the other side. When she resurfaced, she moved as quietly as she could through the water, listening to him as she drew closer. The organ had stopped, and she could hear something else now. It was a sound of sadness now rather than anger. She pulled herself up to the steps to home on the opposite side, wringing out her robe and her hair as she listened to the sound. She moved around the corner and found him at his organ, the mask sitting on top of it and his hands over his face. He was crying. Not only was he crying, but he seemed absolutely heartbroken and he wasn't aware that she was there. She went to him quietly, standing behind him and placing his hand on his shoulder. He stopped, whipping around and grabbing her wrist with his right hand and threw her to the ground, pinning her. She looked up at him, seeing his face fully for the first time.

His deformity scarred the right side of his face with unhealed gashes showing the skull tissue beneath and his right eyebrow was missing. The right eye was a much brighter blue than the left one, and his lips were swollen. He growled at her, pinning her hands above her head as she lay still, unsure of what was happening. "What do you think you are doing here," he shouted at her, not realizing that she wasn't fighting against him, or cringing in fear.

"I…I was just coming to check on you. I saw you tonight. What were you thinking? You could have killed her."

"I don't care! She has betrayed me!"

"Erik, as much as I care for you, you're kind of crushing me right now and I'm freezing since I did just wade across the lake for you. Plus, you're hurting my arms."

He looked down at her, then examined his clothes, noticing that he was soaked from laying on top of her. He looked down at her again, seeing that she was just looking at him and wasn't struggling. "Oh, my God, Colette, I am so sorry," he said softly, releasing her from his grasp and helping her up, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around her. "As you can see, I'm having a bit of a rough evening." He went over and picked up his mask, putting it back on. "I'm sorry that you had to see my face, this infection that poisons me and everyone around me."

"Erik, I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," she said, walking towards him and putting her hand on his shoulder again. "I don't care that you're scarred. You're still my friend and I care about you. Deeply, in fact. Don't ask me why because I'm already confused enough. But please, talk to me about tonight. You obviously have a lot on your mind. Talk to me."

He looked at her up and down, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom. "I will talk to you about tonight on two conditions. You will talk to me about this Count that you were with this evening and you will put something on so you don't catch your death. I have something that you can wear." He went over to the wardrobe and pulled out a blue dress, handing it to her. "This was meant for Christine, but I think that it will fit you. While you change, I'll wait right outside and I'll go over the events of the evening." Colette waited until his back was turned before she began to strip down and redress in the blue gown that he had given her. "The reason why I chose Buquet was because of the way that he was treating you and because he was a convenient choice. I didn't kill him because of where you and your friend were sitting, even though the box was mine to begin with. As for the chandelier, that was because of Christine. She betrayed me. After I hung Buquet from the catwalk, I went on the roof to hide, knowing that Christine would retreat there because that's where she always retreated when an accident occurred. However, she wasn't alone. She was with that boy. He offered her a way out, offered her light instead of my darkness. And she accepted. She was supposed to love me!" He seethed, punching the wardrobe with all of his might, breathing heavily. "I have vowed revenge on them both. I would rather have her dead than with him." He turned around and found that she was watching him, her hair now braided over her shoulder and the gown befitting her quite well.  _My God_ , he thought as he swallowed,  _she is so beautiful. She can never love a monster like me_. He went to her and took her hand, leading her to the organ and having her sit down on the bench, standing in front of her with his arms folded. "Now, tell me about this Count that you were with this evening. I saw you two from the roof."

She folded her hands in her lap, looking at her friend as she began to confide in him. "His name is Count Vladimir de Maurier. He's from Transylvania, and as far as I know, unmarried. I don't really know much about him, but Erik…I don't know what it was but he had some sort of hold on me. Maybe it was the Absinthe I drank, I don't know. At dinner, he wanted to know more about me and I told him, but I declined to tell him about my parents' death. He told me to no longer bury my pain, and then…I just told him what happened. He wiped my tears, and when he opened his hand, there were diamonds which he gave to me. We came back here and he led me to Box Five, but I declined to go in because I knew it was your box. He ushered me inside after telling me that the Vicomte was in there also. I remained unfocused and nervous the entire time because I knew that you would be unhappy. Until…until he pulled me to him and told me to calm down and…and I did. I can't explain it, but it was like I was in some sort of hold that he had on me. I don't know what to do; I'm so confused."

Erik nodded, taking her hand and pulling her up to him, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. "When I take you up to the surface, I'm going to do some investigating into this Count in the managers' office. I will find out what's going on with him."

She sighed softly, wrapping her arms around him, glancing over at the organ. She found a book of manuscript paper sitting on the music rest, with a title called Don Juan Triumphant. She pulled herself away and went over to read it. She turned and asked, "May I?" He nodded, seeing no harm in it. She picked up the book and started reading through the music and the libretto, taking her time with it. The music was lush and dark, yet full of passion. He obviously had been working on this for a while, and from the music she could tell that this was what he was playing when she descended from her room. He watched her, coming over behind her, noticing that she was reading through the music with ease. "Erik, this is exquisite. I've never read anything like this."

"I didn't know that you read music. I thought you only painted."

"Being a member of a wealthy family in London, I was naturally exposed to music. I actually know how to play and sing a little, but I prefer to paint."

"No wonder you wanted to work at an opera house," he observed, moving to search for something on the organ. "It's in your blood." He picked up a piece of music and handed it to her, taking the libretto from her. "This belongs to you. You deserve it." She looked down, seeing that he had handed her the music that he had written for her. Colette's Lullaby.

"Erik, I can't take this. How will you play it?"

"I wrote it," he smiled, taking her hand and leading her down to the boat. "It's in my head. I won't forget it."

She smiled, hugging him tightly before he helped her into the boat. "Erik, thank you so much." He nodded and started rowing back across the lake, watching her closely.

"You're tired," he observed, turning the corner and going down a different path than before. "Lie down and rest. I can handle carrying you back up to your room when we get back to the other side."

She nodded, lying down in the boat, falling asleep almost immediately. While he rowed slowly so not to wake her, he couldn't help but think about her in that black corset and stockings that she was wearing before the dress that he had given her. Not only that, but even soaking wet she was gorgeous. No, he couldn't let himself get distracted. Even though Christine had betrayed him, she remained his main focus. However, Colette's body pressed against his felt almost natural. He shook his head, bringing the gondola to a stop and pulling it up as far as he could, picking her up gently and carrying her up. As he carried her, cradling her in his arms, she curled up to him, hiding her face from what light there was. He smiled softly, watching her as she slept, sliding the mirror open with is foot and carrying her to the bed. As he laid her down on the bed, he noticed a presence in the room with them and he had forgotten his rapier down below. He slid the mirror closed and whipped around quickly, seeing the Count in the corner. Erik put his fists up, ready to fight this intruder, but the Count put his hand up to stop him. "I'm not here to fight, friend," he said to him, watching him closely. "I'm just here to meet you."

"How did you get in here?"

"I have my ways, which don't concern you. So, you are the famous O.G. that has been writing to her all of this time," he said, handing him the stack of letters that Colette had saved. "You're quite the charmer, but in the end, she'll be with me."

"You don't know that, Count," Erik said as he circled him, watching him closely. "She cares for both of us. And quite frankly, she's afraid of you. I don't know what you did to her this evening, but I don't like it and I want you to stay from her."

"I will not. I have a right to choose what to do, just as you do. In the end, she will choose who she wants to be with. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some other business to attend to."

Erik watched as this man, or whatever he was, disappeared into the shadow and he was gone. Erik shook his head, not believing what he just saw. Colette stirred, reaching for him. He went to her, taking her hand, stroking and kissing it softly. "Colette, I will not let him harm you. I promise you, whatever or whoever he is, you will not end up in his grasp." He left the letters on the vanity, and left the room shortly after to snoop through the managers' office.


	10. Chapter 10

In the early morning hours of the same night, Colette heard someone come into her room through her nonexistent slumber. It startled her, and she was sure that she had locked the door from the inside. Unless…unless Erik had went out that door and down another passageway to his home after bringing her back. She pretended that she was asleep as the person crawled in bed with her, stroked her hair and wrapped their slender arms around her waist. She reacted quickly and shoved the intruder out of the bed, curling up and ready for yell for help. Until she saw who the intruder was and heard her groan. There, on the floor, holding her head was Lucy, in her bedclothes and just becoming alert. Colette immediately jumped out of bed, helping her friend up, feeling incredibly guilty for pushing her friend out of the bed. "Lucy, I am so sorry," she apologized over and over, making sure her friend was all right. "I thought you were an intruder and I was just defending myself."

"Colette, it's all right," she replied as she rubbed her head, then her eyes. "It wasn't your fault; it was mine. I sleepwalk at night sometimes."

"Sleepwalk? What does that mean?"

"Well, it's hard to explain," Lucy began as she stood, smoothing out her nightgown, taking her friend's hand walking with her back down to the ballet quarters. "There are certain nights when I will get up from my bed and just go walking about the theater as if I'm awake. However, I'm asleep the entire time and I will just fall asleep wherever I end up lying down. I've been seen dancing even while I'm asleep. No one wakes me up when this occurs. They just let it run its course. I've noticed that it usually occurs for a few days after a full moon or after an accident there. I suppose that you could say that it's my way of coping with what has happened here." They came to the ballet quarters, and Lucy stopped, smiling at her friend. "I'm going to see that American again this evening. He is so handsome, and he's filthy rich. Maybe I can snag my claws in him while he's here," she said with a grin. "What about your friend? Have you given yourself to him yet?"

"That's not a conversation for now," Colette said shyly, her cheeks changing into a deep red as she put her hand to her cheek. "We both need some more sleep. I'm sure that the managers will be calling a meeting later this morning to determine what's going to happen until we get everything repaired. So, until later, I must leave you." She gave her friend's hand a gentle squeeze and retreated as Lucy quietly went into the dancers' quarters. Colette sighed softly, rubbing her eyes as she returned to her room. She was utterly exhausted. Her dreams were still in her mind, and she prayed that she could return to bed and not be disturbed. She trudged into her room and fell onto the bed, closing her eyes as images of the dreams danced around in her mind.

She began in the theater, just in a black dress and painting as she usually was. She was working on a portrait of Erik, her beautiful friend who had a piece of her heart from the first letter that he had written her, painting him fully with the deformity he had while he held his mask rested on the organ and he composed the beautiful opera. The lush light colors that she used graced the canvas as she painted Erik in this flattering light, hoping that this portrait would show that she cared for him very deeply and she didn't want to let him go. In the distance, wolves howled in the distance, calling to her to come to the Count, that he needed her and she was the only one who could help him. She tried to ignore the wolves as they howled, but the more she ignored them, the louder the howling became. She finally put her brush down and stood, following the sound of the wolves as they drew her down below the Opera Populaire. As she reached the lake, Erik's voice called to her from above and she turned, seeing him there with the Count. The Count was holding a dagger to her friend's throat, holding him hostage. Colette screamed, going to her friend to save him, but the Count told her to stop. He would let Erik go if Colette came to him, married him and never saw Erik again. If she chose Erik, he would kill him. Erik looked at her, as if to beg her not to go with him, but he couldn't speak. His lips were moving, but his voice wasn't there. She went to the two and whispered to Erik that she loved him, and would never stop loving him before going behind the Count, asking him to please let him go. Vladimir let Erik go, pushing him down into the lake below. He grabbed ahold of Colette by the waist, pulling her to him as close as he could. She found herself drowning in his eyes as he tilted her head back. As Erik's voice reemerged and screamed for Colette, she felt to sharp pricks entering the nape of her neck and her consciousness slipping into the dark. She couldn't stop it; she just let herself go, which was all she really wanted.

There were other dreams as well. In every dream, she was fighting with her emotions to choose between Erik and Vladimir. But the one dream that stayed with her throughout the night was when she was in Erik's embrace. She was down in his lair with him, lying in his bed as he cradled her, kissing her shoulder and neck softly. She didn't know why, but he had chosen her over Christine. Christine had gone to be with Raoul and to live out her life as a Vicomtess. He turned her face to his and kissed her lips, holding the kiss with such longing and passion that it took her breath away. He whispered words of love and adoration to her, such words that she had longed to hear for so long. She closed her eyes and slept happily, until the dream changed again to the wolves and the piercing pain in her neck.

She rubbed her neck absentmindedly as she wondered what the dreams meant. What did this mean for the Count and for Erik? What did it mean for her? She sighed softly, putting her hand over her eyes as she tried to fall asleep again. Meanwhile, Erik had watched her as she walked Lucy back to her room, then return to her room completely and utterly exhausted. He went to the door, wanting to see her again and to check on her to make sure that she was all right, but he had other duties that he needed to fulfill. He quietly walked down the corridors to the managers' office, opening and shutting the door quietly, lighting the lamp so he could see. The office was dark and files were scattered everywhere on the desk, which would make things complicated as Erik began to sift through them. He passed over Raoul's file, tossing it to the side as he skimmed through the other patrons until he finally came to the Count's file. He opened it and read what details there were. Erik discovered that the managers didn't know very much about this Count either, and this worried him. What was this Count hiding that the managers didn't even know who he was? He did find that the Count was married, but that was a number of years ago. How was it that he didn't age? Erik's gaze shot up from the file to the door as he heard three sets of footsteps coming down the hallway. He put the files back as they were originally and opened the secret passageway behind the desk to hide and to spy. The passageway closed just as the door opened, revealing the managers and a person that Erik didn't recognize. This third man was of average height and was dressed in a suit, carrying a doctor's bag with him. He had a goatee and shaggy hair, and Erik could tell that he was from England from the accent. Was it possible that this person had followed Colette from London?

"While we have to say that this is an extremely early visit, Dr. Seward," Andre said as he came around to the desk, followed by Firmin and this Dr. Seward who stood in front of the desk. "We're not entirely sure why you're here. We had thought that the seamstress's matter of death had been determined to be accidental. She just drank too much."

"Unfortunately, Monsieur Andre," the doctor replied as he sat down in the chair in front of the desk, "That is not the case. I was called because I specialize is obscure diseases and illnesses. Your seamstress's death is what I could call obscure."

"How so?"

"Your seamstress was completely drained of blood. That was how she died. Now, had she been stabbed or cut in some way, the stage would have been covered in blood. However, there were two piercing points on her neck, and that is where the blood loss occurred."

"So are you trying to tell us that something bit her, sucked her blood, and just flew away," Firmin asked with a smirk, trying his best not to laugh at the good doctor's theory.

"You can choose to believe me or not to believe me; that is your choice. What I'm telling you is the truth. Now, I will be at the sanatorium here in the city for a stint, so if you have anyone come down with any sort of mental malady, be sure to contact me as soon as possible." He left his card on the desk and left shortly after. Andre and Firmin just looked at each other and started laughing.

"Was he serious? Oh, there's a big, scary monster sucking the blood of our employees and patrons!"

Andre just shook his head, wiping his eyes, gathering up some of the files and preparing to leave the office. "Well, he was a crackpot. That is one thing we know for sure. So what if Mary exsanguinated? We have plenty of other employees and if the monster wants to eat, we have a variety of people to choose from. Come on; we have to go break the news to everyone that we'll be shut down for at least six months. Colette needs her commission also. I suggest that we pay her a hefty amount if we want her to stay here until the next opera."

Firmin sifted around in the desk, pulling out a bank bag full of money. "I believe that 10,000 francs will be enough for the time being. I've noticed that she saved the last commission that we paid her, and she did a lot more work this time around." He counted out 10,000 francs and put it in an envelope for Colette. "Let's get this over with."

Erik waited until they were out of the office before he came out of the secret passageway, looking on the desk for the Count's file again, being sure to write down the address that they had in the file. He was going to find where this Count lived and figure out what was so intriguing about this man that everyone seemed to want to please him. He glanced over and saw the card for the doctor, picking it up and reading it. Dr. Jack Seward, from London. He pocketed the card and the address for the Count, quickly and quietly leaving the office through the secret passageway.


	11. Chapter 11

Over the last few weeks, tensions were high at the opera house. Renovations were sinking money into the place, but with no operas to perform in order to raise the money back up, there was no profit being made. During the six month hiatus that the Opera Populaire was going to take in order to renovate and repair from the chandelier crash, a lot of the performers left to be with their families. Christine had left to live with Raoul and his brother, but a few of the others remained behind, such as Madame Giry and Meg, Lucy, and Colette. Even though the money that she had saved from the commissions that she had been paid could have afforded a small apartment, she wanted to stay at the opera house to be close to Erik. They were spending more time together and learning more about each other, which is all Colette really wanted at the time, even though the feelings that she had begun to develop for him were becoming stronger and she wasn't sure how she should go about handling them. Vladimir was hanging around also, spending time with Colette whenever he could, even during the day which he had never done before. On this particular day, the sun was just beginning to set as Colette began to get ready for another date with Vladimir as Lucy watched her, sitting on the bed.

"So," Lucy began, coming over to brush through Colette's hair while Colette worked on her make-up. "Does the Count measure up?"

Colette looked at her friend, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Does he measure up? Is he everything that you thought he would be and more?"

Colette turned around in her vanity chair to look at her friend, a side braid cascading down her shoulder. "Lucy, I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

Lucy opened her mouth to explain, and then stopped, gasping softly as she put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God," she said, putting her hand to her cheek. "Colette, I thought that surely by now you and the Count had…well, you know."

Colette suddenly knew what she meant, recalling the second night that she was in Paris at the Gala after the opera Hannibal where the dancers went into a dark corridor with a patron somewhere and only imagining what they could have done with the few minutes away from the crowd. She blushed a little, finishing her hair and pinning it back. "To be honest, we haven't even kissed. I don't know what it is about him, but he's been very patient with the romantic side of our relationship. Besides, I'm young; who's to say that Vladimir and I will stay together for the rest of our lives?"

"Well, all I know is that when you're in this kind of profession and you're not making a lot of money, you have to do other things to live day by day. While some of the dancers resort to prostitution in order to earn some extra cash, I prefer having someone that I like to call Daddy."

"Oh, dear Lord," Colette said softly as she closed her eyes, cringing at the thought, but didn't show it so she wouldn't upset her friend. "What does that entail?"

"Well, they buy me things, such as clothes and jewelry. They take me out to dinner sometimes. And in return, I just have to please them until I get tired of them and I move onto the next one. And let me tell you, that Aiden Morris is the best I've ever had. I think I'm going to keep him around for a while."

Colette recalled the evening that she had met Aiden Morris when he was with Lucy during Il Muto. While it was brief, she remembered that he was an American, and he must have been very rich since he drew Lucy's attention. "So are you going to keep him around until the operas resume?"

"I don't know," she said softly as she worked on picking something out of Colette's closet for her to wear. "I've never felt like this before. I'm beginning to care about him, which is rare for me considering that I blow through men as soon as I get bored with them. I just don't know if he feels the same way about me. He said that he wasn't going to be in Paris for long."

"I'm sure that he cares about you. Who wouldn't care about you? You're a great person; you're funny, sweet, and a terrific dancer. You're hard not to fall in love with."

"But consider the facts. I'm a dancer with no family and no prospects. I grew up here; the opera house is my home." She took out a jade green dress and looked at it, smiling. "I'm not saying that I won't get married one day, but it will probably be to a poor man who has a life like I have." She brought the dress over to Colette. "Where did you get this one? It's lovely."

Colette turned and looked at it, gasping in surprise. "Uh, I didn't buy this one. I have no idea where it came from." She stood up from the vanity and took the dress in her hands, looking for some sort of note or card. She found handwriting on the tag, turning it over and reading it.

"For the most beautiful artiste in the world. Wear this tonight.

-V."

She couldn't contain her grin as she showed the tag to Lucy, who giggled and smiled, removing the tag. "You have to give him something tonight for this gift. It was very expensive."

"Lucy, I have never kissed a man before. I do not know how I'm going to repay him with this gift."

"You'll find a way," she said as she helped Colette get the dress on, tying the back of it. "Oh, my God," she breathed, stepping back to look at her friend, moving out of the way of the full length mirror so she could see her reflection. "That color flatters you really well, and the dress looks fantastic on you. How did he know this?"

"I have no idea," Colette said as she turned around, looking at her reflection. "But you are right; this is so beautiful on me."

"I'll be right back. I have something that would go really well with that dress." Lucy left and she shut the door behind her. Colette grinned and locked the door, going back to the mirror and opening it, seeing Erik standing there on the other side. Erik just smiled at her, taking her hand and pulling her to him, spinning her around.

"The Count has exquisite taste," he observed, kissing Colette's hand. "We don't have long; Lucy will be back soon and the Count is finishing up his meeting with the managers. He's going to fund the whole remodeling project."

"How is that possible?"

"I have no idea, but I'm going to do some snooping of my own this evening while the two of you are out. Promise me something."

"You know I'll promise you anything."

"I know you have been doing a very good job of keeping your virtue. Please continue to keep your virtue. Do not give him anything except a kiss, and don't let him overpower you."

"I promise to keep my virtue, and not to let him overpower me. I'll come down this evening after everyone has gone to bed." She leaned up and kissed his cheek, retreating from the corridor as Lucy returned, knocking on the door. She closed the mirror and unlocked the door, revealing Lucy who was holding a gold necklace with a jade stone in the center.

"Here," she said, handing it to her. "I can't stay; the Count is coming and Aiden is here. I have to get ready. Just return this whenever you're done." She hugged her friend with a smile and trotted off to her room to get ready for her date with Aiden. She put on the necklace and adjusted it, stepping out of her room and closing the door. She looked up and saw Vladimir walking towards her and smiling, looking her up and down.

"It seems that I made a good choice on the dress," he said with a smile, taking her hand and kissing it. "Are you ready for dinner?"

"Yes," she smiled, taking his arm and together they left the opera house to have dinner.

After she left the corridor, Erik just stood there, completely lost and unsure of how to react. She had kissed him on the cheek. Before the kiss, he just long to gaze at her while she wore that long, jade dress which graced her body so beautifully. This dress had long sleeves, but it left her shoulders and neck bare and it accented her curves and her breasts perfectly. He literally had to tear his eyes away from her because he didn't want to become conflicted with his feelings. However, the moment that her lips touched his skin, he felt this warm sensation shoot through his entire body and his feelings for her had changed completely. For weeks, he was protecting her, caring for her as if she was his daughter or a younger sister. Now, she had shown this small act of kindness and love, which let him know that he was appreciated, and that was more than Christine had ever shown him. He suddenly felt that he had this glow around him. It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had been touched by heaven's light.

After dinner, Colette and Vladimir were walking through a park near the opera house, taking in the crisp night air before they returned. Colette was quiet again; her mind was drifting off to the dinner that they had just had. They had returned to the same restaurant and to the same room that was reserved for them. Instead of Absinthe, they had wine, a sweet red liquid that Colette had never tried before. She enjoyed the taste, and it didn't go to her head as quickly as the Absinthe did. While at dinner, she noticed that Vladimir wasn't eating or drinking. This was strange to her because there was so much food for them to eat and he didn't seem to take any interest in it at all. They talked about his home land of Transylvania and his life prior to coming to Paris. He had just lost his wife and he was lonely. He told her that coming to Paris was a dream for him, and he wanted to spend some time here to see if he could live here with a new wife. The walk through the park was a nice touch to end the evening, but Colette wasn't sure how to bring up the fact that he didn't eat or drink anything for the duration of the night. She finally cleared her throat as they stopped to sit down on a bench to break from walking, turning to look at him. "Vladimir," she began, taking his hand, "I noticed that you didn't have anything to eat or drink while we were at dinner this evening. Are you feeling all right?"

"Of course, darling," he replied, stroking the top of her hand with his thumb. She noticed that his hands were cold, even though he was wearing gloves. It made her shiver. "I had already dined with the managers before while we were discussing the finances for the Opera Populaire's renovation. And I never drink…wine."

"I suppose that you never drink Absinthe either," Colette observed, standing and starting to walk again as she held Vladimir's hand. "You are still a mystery to me, Vladimir. While you told me about your life and your home in Transylvania, I still feel like you're not telling me everything."

Off in the distance, she heard wolves howling. It made her jump, and Vladimir wrapped his arms around her, chuckling. "Do wolves scare you?"

"I didn't know that there were wolves in the city," she said as she turned around, looking up at him. "I've never even seen a wolf up close."

"There is much to be learned from beasts," he said softly, moving his hand to her neck, the tips of his fingers massaging her skin softly. He moved them slowly, and soon Colette felt her back against a tree. She didn't even realize that they had moved. She let out a low sigh as she closed her eyes, tilting her head back. He leaned in close, whispering in her ear. "May I kiss you?"

She leaned her head foreward, resting her cheek against his, feeling the brush of his goatee against her skin. "Yes," she replied softly, looking at him as he pulled his head back up, looking lovingly into her eyes. "Yes," she said again, moving her hand to his forearm to brace herself, as if she was about to be thrown from a horse. He kept his hand on her neck as he leaned in slowly, gently pressing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and held the kiss, deciding to let her body take over. Her hands moved up from his hand and forearm to his shoulders, and his arms wrapped around her small frame to pull her closer to him. She pulled away for a brief moment, then kissed him, her heart beating against her chest as a warm sensation rose through her, making her whole body tingle. He must have sensed this in her somehow, because his hands moved down her neck and ran slowly and graciously over her curves and to the small of her back, playing with the ties of her dress. She pulled away, this time not kissing him again, breathing deeply. She knew that if she had continued to hold the kiss that neither of them would be able to stop each other. He only smiled at her, kissing her forehead as he took a step back, offering his arm to her. He walked her back to the Opera Populaire and to her room. All was quiet in the opera house; everyone was asleep or had gone home for the day. He kissed her once more, stroking her cheek as he bid her goodnight, walking away and disappearing into the shadows. Colette stood there alone for a few moments, smiling slightly as she reflected on the evening that she had, leaning against her doorframe.

"Ah, young love," a Western voice said from behind her. Colette turned and saw Aiden Morris, Lucy's suitor, walking towards her. "It seems that you had a good evening, Miss Colette."

"I did, Mr. Morris," she replied, turning to open her door.

"I just hope that he didn't draw you too far into his grasp," he said in her ear before walking away. She turned to reply, but saw he was gone. She wondered what he meant, but instead she shrugged it off, going into her room and changing gowns before going down to meet Erik.


	12. Chapter 12

On the outside of the city where the sanatorium was located, wolves could be heard howling with increasing volume. Dr. Seward continued to make notes in his journal about the cases that he was observing, and reviewing the evidence that he had recovered with the body of the seamstress from the Opera Populaire. He sighed heavily, rubbing his tired eyes as there was a knock on the door. He looked up, seeing Aiden in the window, giving a little wave. Jack waved him inside and Aiden entered, removing his hat and closing the door. "So what did we find out tonight," Jack asked as he closed his journal, putting it in the desk drawer.

"Not a lot," Aiden replied, tossing his hat on the couch as he sat down in the chair in front of the desk, sighing softly. "Lucy nearly has me drained. No pun intended, of course."

"When are you going to take this seriously?"

"Hey, I do take it seriously," he said as he stood, coming over the other side of the desk. "I have been watching Colette like a hawk."

"You haven't been watching her closely enough!"

"You forget that Jonathan and Mina were my friends also!"

"And we need to work together to stop him from taking Colette with him into the darkness," Jack shouted in frustration, taking a glass that was on his desk and throwing it against the wall. The glass shattered into shards and tiny pieces as Jack breathed heavily, his hands now in balls of fists. "Aiden, what makes you think that we are going to stop him? We thought that we had stopped him before, and then he killed Jonathan and Mina right under our noses."

"That wasn't our fault," Aiden replied, going over and putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. "We couldn't have known that he would have risen from the dead. Again, no pun intended."

Jack just shook his head. "Just tell me what you know without any more puns, please."

"She went out with him tonight," he replied, going over to sit down again. "Came back just an hour ago, but he didn't stay long. He kissed her, but that's it. I think she was going down to visit her friend again."

"What friend? I thought that her only friend was Lucy."

He shook his head. "She has a secret friend, and I know who it is. His name is Erik, also known as the Opera Ghost or the Phantom. He lives below the opera house. Apparently, he's the one who lured her to Paris with a job at the opera house as a painter. He has a lot of influence there, even though he is not an owner or a manger."

"How do you know all of this?"

"The other night, I picked the lock on her door and went in to do some snooping. I found a collection of letters that she has saved from the time that her parents died up until before the last opera. What was strange was that she wasn't in the room, even though the door was locked. Then I saw that the mirror was open slightly. I peered inside and saw that there was a secret passageway, but I don't know where it led. He's very territorial."

Jack nodded, sitting back down behind the desk. "I'm going to dispatch a wire to Van Helsing to let him know what's going on. I just hope that Dracula doesn't do anything drastic in the meantime."

Colette sat next to the organ while Erik was working on a song from his opera, sketching him on a piece of canvas that he had given her. She smiled at him, shading out the charcoal around his hair and blending in the shadow that he had on the floor. Erik glanced up for a moment before looking down at his music again. "You're sketching me again, aren't you," he asked, which her reply was only a giggle and a nod. "You need to stop doing that. You're not going to have any inspiration for when you need to paint for my opera."

"You're all the inspiration that I need," Colette replied with a wide grin, showing him the sketch. "I'm going to do a painting for you one day," she said, placing the canvas on the piano, coming behind him to see what he was working on. She saw the title of the song, noticing that he had been working on it for quite some time. There were ink smudges and scribbled out music notes. "The Point of No Return," she read, moving down to get a better look, humming the melody. He turned to look at her, setting his quill down.

"This isn't for you," he said softly before standing up to stretch. He looked over and noticed that the lake was rising slowly, sighing softly. "I have to take you back up. It's raining."

"How do you know?"

"Look at the lake," he pointed out, leading her down to the boat. "It's beginning to rise, which means that it's probably raining pretty hard outside. I have to get you back to the other side before it becomes too high and I won't be able to take you back over." He helped her inside the gondola before getting in, rowing across the lake as quickly and as safely as he could. "So, I take it that your date went well," he said as he rowed. "You haven't said much about it all night."

"I've been focused on you. Besides, I figured that you didn't want to hear about it."

"So I take it that he kissed you?" He watched for her reaction, seeing her cheeks turn a crimson red as she looked away from him. "Can I tell you something?" When she nodded, he continued. "No one has shown me one act of kindness or love. From the moment I was born, I was labeled a monster and I was told at a young age that I would never find love." He paused as he stopped the boat, getting out before helping her out. He took her hand and they began the walk up together. "When I first saw Christine when she was a little girl, I loved her, even though I was older than her. I watched over her for years and when she became old enough, I gave her voice lessons through her mirror and only in shadow. She adored me until she saw my face. Now, she loathes me and I probably couldn't get her to listen to me even if I tried." They came to her mirror, stopping as he took both of her hands, holding them to his chest. She looked into his eyes, her cheeks no longer the crimson red that they were moments ago. "I haven't been able to get your kiss on my cheek off of my mind. You have shown me the first act of kindness that I ever had in my life. I know that you care for me, and I care for you also. I just don't know where this can go. I don't want a life where I'm going to be ridiculed for what I look like. How do I know that you won't turn on me just like she did?"

She smiled at him, leaning up and kissing his cheek again. "I won't turn on you. I swear on my life. I will protect with every fiber of my being." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. He froze again, unsure of what to do. He slowly raised his arms and wrapped his arms around her. He held her for what seemed like hours before he let her go, kissing her forehead.

"Go and have sweet dreams. I'll play your lullaby for you once I return below." He slowly let go of her hands, opening the mirror for her. She bid him goodbye once more before he closed the mirror and retreating to the depths below. Colette smiled widely to herself before sitting down at the vanity to take her hair down and get ready for bed. The rain was pounding hard on the windows and the roof of the opera house, and she could still hear the wolves that she had heard earlier. As she unbraided her hair after unpinning it, she began to contemplate the troubled feelings that she was beginning to have. When she had first arrived in Paris nearly two months ago, she had feelings for Erik, and she hadn't met him yet. Now she had met him and was working with him whenever she had a spare moment, but there was also Vladimir. Vladimir was so mysterious and dark, and yet incredibly sexy. That kiss that she received earlier in the evening drew the breath right out of her body. She still couldn't get her head wrapped around his cold skin; even his lips were cold, but with only a few moments on hers, he seemed to warm up.

As she began to brush through her hair, she looked down and saw that she was still wearing the necklace that Lucy had loaned to her. She took it off and carried it in her hand, unlocking her door and opening it. She stepped out and closed the door. As she looked up, she saw Lucy exiting her room. She thought that she was coming towards her to get all of the details of the date, but Lucy turned, heading toward the stage. Colette called to Lucy, but she didn't answer. She called to her again, and when she didn't answer, she followed. Lucy was sleepwalking; that had to be the reason why she wasn't answering her. Lucy began to walk through the backstage corridors, walking down the steps through a trapdoor that was on the stage. Colette continued to follow her, not realizing that as she followed Lucy the howling of the wolves grew louder. After following her through the trapdoor, Colette lost Lucy in the darkness. She continued to call Lucy's name, praying that she would answer her as she found her way in the dark. She stopped for a moment, resting against the wall, closing her eyes and listening for a sound, any sound besides the howling. Then, she heard something; a soft moan. She followed it as it echoed through the tunnel that she was in. She soon found herself in one of the corridors that Erik uses; she could tell that it was his because it was still lit with candles from earlier in the night. She was able to find her way now. The moaning and other noises of pleasure began to increase as she moved deeper below the opera house. She called for her friend once more as she turned a corner stopping in her tracks.

There, pressed with her back against the wall was Lucy, and the one pressing her there was Vladimir. But it wasn't really Vladimir. What Colette saw was a wolf-like monster that seemed to have Vladimir's likeness, holding Lucy's hips as he moved with her at a rapid pace. She turned her head to the side, and Colette could see two puncture marks on her neck. The monster growled and sunk his fangs into her neck, making Lucy cry out in both pleasure and pain. The monster then drew back, his gaze turning to Colette who was shivering and breathing rapidly, scared out of her mind. Then, a voice came through her head, speaking to her. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the voice.

_No. Do not see me._

The next time that she opened her eyes, Lucy was laying on the cold stone floor of the passageway, shivering and covering herself in what was left of her nightgown. Colette went to her and helped her up, saying her name repeatedly to make sure that she was okay. "I just couldn't help myself," Lucy told her as Colette helped her to walk, barely holding her up.

"Shh, Lucy, it's all right. You were walking in your sleep."

"It seemed that my soul just left my body, and something just pulled me and lured at me. I had no control."

"Lucy, don't worry. This wasn't your fault."

"It had red eyes. I still have the taste of blood in my mouth," she sobbed, barely standing up. Colette couldn't carry her weight anymore as they reached the stairs below the trapdoor. Lucy sat down on the stairs, and soon lost consciousness. Colette sighed, rubbing her eyes, wishing that she had help. She turned around, seeing Erik, running up and hugging him.

"What are you doing down here," he asked, pulling his attention away for a moment to look at Lucy, going over to her. He picked her up and cradled her, carrying up through the trapdoor. "What happened?"

"I…I honestly don't know," Colette replied as she followed him, and then took the lead as she directed him to Lucy's room in the ballet quarters. "She was sleepwalking and I followed her because she was going down one of your corridors. I found her like this."

"I think that she needs a doctor," he said as he examined her, noticing the puncture wounds on her neck. "I'll send word to the managers immediately."

"I'm sorry if she invaded your space. She wasn't in her right mind."

"Colette, don't worry. She will be fine. Come on; I'll walk you back." He took her hand and walked her back to her bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. "Be sure to lock your door tonight. You can check on Lucy in the morning. She'll survive the night."

"Will you stay with me," she asked, showing signs of fear. He nodded, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. She closed the door and locked it. He turned away from her with his back to him so she could change for bed, shedding the dress that she had and remaining only in a slip. She pulled her blankets back and got in, curling up in the sheets. Erik turned around once she was settled, getting in on the other side, wrapping his arms protectively around her, holding her to him. He watched over her as she slept, humming her lullaby to her to keep her calm and asleep. He stayed with her until dawn, kissing her shoulder softly as he got up, retreating down to his lair to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Colette felt an absence in her bed. She felt it and realized that she was alone. Erik must have left sometime after the sun came up; she felt him throughout the night, and heard him humming her lullaby until only a few hours ago. As she sat up in bed, her head felt heavy, as if she had drank too much wine the night before. However, she knew that she stopped drinking after dinner and didn't have another drink for the rest of the evening. She began to replay the night in her head. She remembered being in the park with Vladimir, and his wonderful kiss that he had given her. It made her legs quiver just thinking about it. She remembered being down in Erik's home, sketching him and reading the music of his opera over his shoulder. She smiled slightly as she thought about him, her heart beating slightly against her chest. She stopped, remembering that she and Erik helped a sick Lucy back to her room. She got out of bed and dressed as quickly as she could, going down to Lucy's room to check on her. When she got there, she saw that her bed was made and she was gone. She blinked, and then went to where the dancers usually practiced and found her there, dancing away as if nothing was wrong with her. She thought that was strange, considering that last night she could hardly stand on her own two feet. She retreated back to her room, closing and locking the door. She went to her mirror and opened it, going down to Erik's home to check on him. She figured that he would still be sleeping, and as long as no one needed her, she wouldn't be missed. She was able to get down to the lair a lot faster now since she was used to where she was going. She took the boat across, quietly rowing so she wouldn't disturb him. Once she got to the other side, she got out and pulled the boat up, going to his room.

She found him lying on the bed, sound asleep and dead to the world. She smiled softly, going over and taking a blanket, pulling it over his sleeping form, kissing his forehead softly. She roamed around the lair for a while, winding up in the parlor and looking through some of the other music that he composed. She read through a piece, humming the melody. It was a waltz; haunting and yet lyrical. She wondered what else he composed. She glanced over at a papier-mâché music box that was in the shape of a barrel organ. She walked over to it and picked it up, examining it closer. Attached was a figure of a monkey in Persian robes, playing the cymbals. She wound the music box, listening to the melody as the monkey's cymbals clang lightly together. She smiled softly, glancing behind her to make sure that he wasn't there before she sang.

_Masquerade_  
 _Paper faces on parade_  
 _Masquerade_  
 _Hide your face so the world will never find you…_ __  


"Colette," a voice said behind her, which made her jump. She turned around, seeing Erik standing there, watching her with his music box. She swallowed, putting it down and standing there with her hands behind her back. He came to her, slowly, standing in front of her. "You sang just now," he confronted, stopping her as she tried to walk away from him. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, holding her against him. "You said that you could only sing a little. You have perfect pitch. Even Christine doesn't have that. Why didn't you tell me?"

She put her hands to his chest, pushing away slightly until he let go of her. "Because I don't want to be your puppet," she admitted, looking at him. His gaze softened, and then he scoffed, shaking his head.

"What makes you think that you're not a puppet of mine already?"

"You only care about others if they have some sort of artistic talent or if they have cared for you and not harmed you in any way. I see how Christine fears you, and yet she adores you. Before that night with  _Il Muto_ , she would have done anything to please you. I suppose that, in a way, I am one of your puppets. I was hired here because of your influence and I make you promises that I always keep. In return, you have protected and cared for me, even though you could never love me because your heart belongs to Christine. There is a lighter side to you, Erik. You don't always have to choose the darkness over the light."

He looked at her, unsure of what to say. This child, this…woman was telling him what no one else ever dared to say to his face. He should kill her for this, for insulting him in his own home. He went to her, gripping her jaw in his hand, staring hard down into her eyes. "Get out of my home. Do not come back here." He released her and pushed her away, turning his back to her. She moved towards him to apologize, but realized that she wasn't wanted and she left quickly and quietly, fighting back the tears that were burning in her eyes.

A week went by and there was no word from Erik, so Colette was spending a lot of her time with Vladimir and Lucy. However, Erik was never far from her mind. She was wondering if she had wronged him, not intending to. She also wondered if she would be fired for what she had done to him. Today, Colette was going to have a meeting with the managers about some sort of upcoming event that they wanted her to paint for. However, she wasn't sure what they wanted painted. When she walked by Lucy's room, she found her with her ear pressed against the wall, listening intently. She lifted an eyebrow, stepping into her room. "Lucy, what are you doing," she asked as Lucy turned around, smiling at her friend softly.

"I'm listening to the Opera House," she replied, pressing her ear up against the wall again. "I can hear everything. I can hear the managers in their office whispering about the Opera Ghost. I can hear the mice inside the walls, stomping like elephants. I could even hear you sketching in your room a few hours ago."

She blinked, wondering what was wrong with her friend. No one could hear things like that, not even if you had the best hearing in the world. "Lucy, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling like I have just climbed the world's tallest mountain. I feel amazing. I just wish that the nightmares would stop. The nightmares of those eyes…"

Colette excused herself, backing out of Lucy's room quickly and quietly, wondering what was wrong with her friend. She shook her head, retreating to the meeting with the managers. She went into the office, greeting them with a hello and sitting down in front of the desk. "You said that you needed to see me," she said, smoothing out her dress.

"Yes," Andre said, putting some files away. "We're going to be holding a gala around the New Year and it's going to be a masquerade ball. We would like you to make some masks for everyone here."

"Of course, but how am I to do this?"

"We will have the masks made," Firmin explained, getting out a bag of money and counting it out. "All you will have to do is paint and design them to your liking." He handed her another 10,000 francs, smiling at her. "This should cover the cost of your supplies and this will be only half of the commission. The other half will come when you have completed the masks."

"How many masks are you going to have made?"

Firmin thought for a moment. "I would say that a rough estimate would be around three hundred, possibly more. Don't worry; you'll have plenty of time to complete them before the masquerade ball."

She nodded. "I'll devote my time to them." She stood to leave, but stopped, turning back to the managers. "If it's at all possible, messieurs, I would like to ask a favor of you."

Andre looked up from the files that he was sorting, stopping for only a moment. "Oh? And what would that be?"

"Could you please have a doctor come and check on Lucy? I don't think she's well."

Firmin nodded. "Of course we will. I'm sure she's fine. Just a cold."

Colette wanted to say something more, but just nodded, leaving the office and heading back to her room. When she returned, there were roses there from Vladimir, with a note reminding them of their date that they were going to have that night. She closed her door, taking out a piece of canvas, her palette and paints, starting to work on a new piece.

Erik watched her through the mirror once he got there, just watching her. He didn't dare approach her after what was said between them a week ago. He followed her from afar, and he made a note of Lucy's symptoms as he looked at the card that the doctor had given to the managers more than a month ago. He still had it, keeping it in case of something like this occurring. Those puncture wounds on Lucy's neck bothered him; they weren't natural. If she had been stabbed, she would have been bleeding profusely and possibly would have died. However, they were just there, deep and the blood had already begun to coagulate and she wasn't bleeding. It was as if something had sucked and licked at the wound so there would be no excess blood. He gazed through the mirror and watched her as her brush graced the canvas. He wondered what she was painting. He longed to speak to her, to beg forgiveness, but he couldn't. Perhaps now she loathed him as well. The least that he could do was to try to help her friend because he knew that the managers would not. He retreated down to the lair, grabbing his cloak to wear and to hide his mask, climbing to the surface. He got a horse from the stables that were outside the opera house, riding to the sanatorium outside the city.

Colette and Vladimir were in the park after their usual dinner, resting on a blanket and staring up at the Parisian sky. Colette had her head in the lap of the Count, who was sitting up with his back against a tree, running his hand over her hair. They were having a dessert of grapes and wine, just enjoying the night that they had to themselves. She was watching him closely, wondering what he was thinking as he watched over her, feeding her another grape. "You've been quiet tonight," he observed, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Would you like to tell me what's on your mind?"

"I'm worried about my friends," she replied softly, moving to sit up as he handed her the bottle of wine. She took a drink, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Which one," he asked, wrapping an arm around her. "Lucy or your secret friend?"

"Both, I suppose, but mainly Lucy. I think she's sick. She was telling me today about these sounds that she was hearing that are impossible for humans to hear. I'm afraid that her mind may be going."

"What about your secret friend?"

"I'm not ready to talk about him," she replied, taking another drink of wine. "Vladimir, you have to understand that he is still my friend, and he has entrusted me with secrets that I swore never to reveal."

"It sounds like you care about him a great deal."

"I do," she said absently, moving to lay back down again, resting her head on his lap. She began to think about her parents and her life in London, suddenly feeling a bit homesick. He looked down at her, leaning forward and kissing her lips softly.

"Your mind is wandering again," he said, his face close to hers, his hand tangled in her hair.

"I'm thinking about London, and my parents."

"What about your parents?"

"Just…what they taught me, and their lives. My father was a partner in a law firm around the time that he died, and my mother was a schoolteacher. She loved working with children. Father's family had a substantial amount of money, and when his parents died, we became rich when we inherited the entire estate. I can remember going to the theater and watching the plays of Shakespeare and operas, as well as having balls at the house that we lived in. Painting is where my real talent lies, but I seem to have a talent of singing and playing instruments as well. They always had time for me, no matter what other things they had going on their lives or if they had to attend a ball. I can remember getting so excited when we traveled to Paris during the summer for new operas. We stopped coming when I was ten. I wasn't sure why, but I can remember that I was always happy." She moved to sit up, looking at him. "Do you think that we could be happy together? As happy as they were?"

"I think that we could be as happy as you wanted us to be. That's all I want for you. Are you happy?"

She thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, I am happy." He smiled at her, moving his fingers through her hair, then moving his hand to the back of her neck. "Will you kiss me?"

"Gladly," he whispered, pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers. She released a content sigh, kissing him back as she moved her hands to his neck. He smiled against her lips, pulling her into his lap and kissing her again. He leaned up, whispering in her ear. "How would you like to go back to my home?"

She discreetly bit her lip, pulling away. "Maybe some other time. I would love a tour the next time we go out."

"Absolutely," he said, kissing her again. This time he held the kiss, and she felt his hand on the back of her neck. He massaged her skin gently, gently nibbling on her lip. She moaned softly, kissing him back, panting softly. Her whole body was tingling, feeling warm sensations shoot through her nerves and her mind becoming flooded. Then, there was a voice inside her head as he moved his lips to her neck.

_You don't have to fight me anymore. Give into what your body is feeling._

His lips began to kiss her neck, sucking softly. She sighed softly, tilting her head to the side to grant him more access. While one of his hands moved to the small of her back, his other hand moved over her curves, graciously caressing her body. He kissed down her neck, and continued to suck softly. Colette, however, was fighting against the voice in her mind telling her to give in. She wanted to, badly, but Erik was there inside her mind. He was pulling her away from this voice. "Wait, stop," she said, pulling back, breathing heavily. He looked at her, dropping his hands from her.

"You were thinking about your special friend," he confronted, helping her to stand, cleaning up their items.

"How do you know that I was thinking about him?"

"You wouldn't have resisted if you weren't."

"How do you know?"

He just looked at her, walking and waving down a passing carriage. He placed the items inside, offering his hand to her. She took it, stepping inside and sitting down. He sat down beside her and told the driver where to go. For the rest of the evening, neither one of them said another word to each other. There were no apologies made and when they arrived back at the Opera Populaire, Colette got out of the carriage on her own, declining to be escorted in. Vladimir got out and followed her, grabbing her hand and pulling her to him, kissing her deeply. He pulled away after a few moments, looking down at her. "Colette, I have been fighting with these feelings for you for long enough. I love you, and I don't care about this other friend of yours or what he thinks. I want you to be with me, forever. Just…think about your options before you decide." He let her go, watching her go inside. She turned to him, leaning against the doorframe.

"So you're going to stay?"

"For the time being. After all, I am funding the renovations and I hope that I still have a date for the masquerade ball. That is, if you will still go with me."

She smiled, nodding. "Of course I'll still go with you." She went to him and kissed him goodnight, retreating to her room to continue her painting.


	14. Chapter 14

Once Erik arrived at the sanatorium, he tied the horse up outside and found his way up to where the doctor was staying. He kept his cloak on with the hood up, hiding his face from everyone. He found the doctor in his office, opening the door and stepping inside with no invitation, closing and locking the door. The doctor looked up from his journal, standing up and backing away from this dark, hooded figure that just barged into his office. As Erik approached him to say something, he felt someone come behind him and put a knife to his throat. "State your business," a voice with a Western accent said in his ear. "Otherwise, this office is going to be a lot messier than before." Erik put his hands up, indicating that he meant no harm.

"I'm here from the Opera Populaire," he stated calmly, waiting for the protector to drop the knife. "I need to speak to the doctor about an urgent matter."

"Take the hood off, and then we'll talk," the cowboy said, lowering the knife just enough for Erik to remove his hood, revealing his mask covered face. The cowboy lowered the knife completely, coming around to the desk, standing beside the doctor. "Who are you?"

"Who I am is not important, but I do have some concerns about a dancer's illness that has become apparent just within the last few days."

The doctor nodded, offering a chair to Erik. Erik took the cloak off the rest of the way, draping it over his arm and sitting down. "So you work at the opera house," the doctor asked as he sat back down, getting a piece of paper and his pen out to write down the symptoms of the dancer.

"You could say that, but as I said before, who I am and what I do at the opera house is not important."

The Cowboy lifted an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked at Erik, thinking that he had seen him somewhere before. The doctor looked at him, putting his pen down. "How did you find me here?"

"I overheard the conversation that you had with the managers about the seamstress that died. After you left, the managers just laughed at you and I went in and grabbed your card, figuring that I could keep a better eye on strange happenings than the managers would."

"That's who you are," the cowboy said, having a revelation as to who Erik was. "You're the Opera Ghost."

Erik turned, looking at the cowboy. "How do you know who I am?"

"Because I'm the one who sent them here," a fourth voice said as he came into the office. The three men looked up, seeing an old man who was about sixty, average height, with long graying hair and a slight beard. He wore a long, dark brown trench coat, hat and scarf, and from what Erik could see, he was also wearing a large crucifix around his neck. He removed his hat, hanging it up on the hat rack. The doctor stood and came around to the other side, shaking the fourth man's hand.

"Professor Van Helsing," the doctor greeted as this Van Helsing handed the doctor his bag and removed his scarf, hanging it up. "When I wired you, I didn't mean for you to come right away."

"You know that I always come to my friend's in need when they call me," Van Helsing replied, his voice laden with a German accent. He turned to Erik, who was now standing, holding his cloak. "So, this is the famous Phantom. Good, you're young. You'll be perfect."

"Perfect? Perfect for what?"

"Oh, Professor," the cowboy interjected, coming over and standing beside the doctor, shaking his head. "You can't be serious. He's a murderer."

"Um, if I may," Erik said, leaning against the desk. "Would someone mind telling me what's going on?"

"Once you tell us about your dancer's illness," the doctor said, coming back over to the desk. The cowboy went over behind the desk again, pulling out a Bowie knife and starting to sharpen it. Professor Van Helsing went and sat down on the couch, observing Erik as he sat back down in the chair in front of the desk, turning his attention to the doctor. "Now, start at the beginning. When did you notice that this dancer was ill?"

"I believe that the illness began a week ago. I found her and a friend of mine who was trying to carry her back to her room. She was weak, unconscious, and I noticed two puncture wounds on her neck. The wounds were not bleeding, which I found odd. I took the girl back to her room and made my friend return to her own room and check on the dancer in the morning."

"Was your friend injured in any way," the professor asked, stroking his whiskers as he watched the Opera Ghost.

"No, sir; she was unharmed."

"Continue, please," the doctor instructed, making notes of the first occurrence.

"Today, my friend went by her room and found the dancer with her ear pressed against the wall. When she asked what she was doing, the dancer replied, 'I am listening to the opera house.' She said that she could hear everything. Now, Doctor, you and I both know that isn't natural. Something is seriously wrong with that girl."

The doctor nodded, writing down the rest of the symptoms, and stopped, setting his pen down. "Now it's time for our end of the bargain. I am Dr. Jack Seward. The man behind me is Aiden Quincy Morris, and the man to your right is Professor Abraham Van Helsing. We have been part of a secret sect for a number of years that protected the world from a man who is known as Dracula."

Erik looked at the good doctor, lifting an eyebrow. "Dracula is a myth, just as all vampires are. Aren't they?"

"Not exactly," Professor Van Helsing said, standing and getting a book out of his doctor's bag, handing it to Erik. It was a large journal with the word 'Nosferatu' inscribed on the cover. "That book talks about the history of Dracula and his victims throughout the years since he became a vampire. This account also talks about his time in London eighteen years ago."

Erik looked at him, and then opened the book, skimming through it for a few moments before closing it again. "You've been following Colette," he concluded, standing up from his chair. "That's why you two are here, and why you came. And if you have been following Colette, that means that he has been following her also."

Van Helsing nodded, observing the Opera Ghost once again. "What is not in there is what happened on the 30th of May, 1896. I believe that you know why that date is significant."

Erik nodded. "That's the day that Colette's parents were killed. What do you know about that day? She's very secretive and won't talk about it."

"Why don't we start at the beginning? Eighteen years ago, Jonathan Harker, who was a mere clerk at a law firm in London, was dispatched to Transylvania to settle some accounts with a certain Count Dracula. This Count had bought up some properties around London and the original clerk who went to settle them returned to London and had a complete mental breakdown. He was a patient of Dr. Seward's. The Count requested that Jonathan remained for a month to tutor him in English custom. However, that wasn't the case. The Count was going to trap Jonathan there in Transylvania, and go to London in order to steal Jonathan's fiancé from him."

"Jonathan's fiancé was Wilhelmina Murray, also known as Mina for short," Dr. Seward said, handing Erik a picture of Mina. Colette was the spitting image of her mother in the face, but she must have inherited the blonde hair from her father. "Dracula seemed to think that Mina was the reincarnation of his bride, Elisabeta, who killed herself when she received false news that Dracula had been killed in battle against the Turks. Mina was; because of Dracula, they developed a strong mind connection. He was able to read her thoughts and she could hear everything he said whether it was directed towards her or not."

"So what does this have to do with Colette?"

"We were able to save Mina from Dracula's grasp, but just barely," Van Helsing recalled, striking a match and lighting a cigar that he had. "Jonathan was able to escape from Castle Dracula and from Dracula's Brides, three women that did his bidding and fed on the living just has he done. Once he escaped, he and Mina were married, but that didn't stop Dracula. She was deeply in love with him and when he found her, he bit her and baptized her with his own blood. He retreated back to Transylvania and we hunted him down with Mina in tow. Mina's transformation into a creature of the night began almost immediately. She lost her appetite for food, and her blood was dying. When we got to Castle Dracula, she was nearly a vampire, and we barely defeated Dracula. Mina was the one who was able to put the stake through his heart and she watched him die. When he died, she was released from the curse because their love was stronger in death. Shortly after returning from Transylvania, Mina found out that she was pregnant. She and Jonathan had a daughter, their only child, and they named her Colette."

Erik sat back in his chair, rubbing his neck. "I had no idea."

"Here's something that I don't understand," Aiden said while still sharpening his Bowie knife. "How did you know about Colette? You've been writing her for over a year and I know that she has written you back. So how did you find her?"

"It was the last time she and her family visited Paris. They came to the Opera Populaire, taking a tour while they were contemplating on becoming patrons. She became separated from her parents and the manager at the time and got lost. She was crying, hiding her face in her knees. I pulled my fedora down and picked her up, cradling her in my arms. I comforted her, telling her that she was safe. I took her back to her parents, but made sure that they never saw me. I kept tabs on her throughout the years until I saw the paper the day that they discovered her parents had died. I knew that I had to protect her, but I wouldn't be able to protect her unless she was here in Paris at the opera house. She does have an inheritance here at a bank in Paris; I didn't lie about that. I've been working on getting it for her since she arrived."

"But you're in love with that diva, that Christine Daae," Aiden said as he slipped his Bowie knife back into its holster. "You don't give two shits about Colette, and you never have."

"I love that child more than you know."

"That's all you see her as then, as a child. She is slipping away from you and you don't even see it. That's why we are here."

"You're here because you're spying on her."

"We're keeping watch on her because that Vladimir de Maurier that she has been courting with is Count Dracula," Dr. Seward said, folding his hands in front of him. "When Jonathan and Mina were killed, it was at Dracula's hand. Somehow, he was able to rise from the dead. We're not sure how, but he found a way back to London and killed Mina and Jonathan when they were on their way home from the theater. Colette had stayed home because she was nursing a cold. Thinking that Jonathan and Mina were at home, he went there first, finding Colette as she was getting ready for bed. He figured why have the mother when he could just as easily have the daughter. So, he killed Jonathan and Mina; drained them dry. He stayed in London, watching Colette and learning everything that he could about her. He came up with a persona that he could use when he followed her to Paris, acted as a patron, and just recently began to fund the renovation and I'm sure that he's providing the funds for the masquerade ball."

Erik stood up, grabbing his cloak and pulling it on. "I have to get back. She had another date with him tonight."

"He won't feed on her now," Van Helsing comforted, putting his hand on Erik's shoulder. "He's been feeding on that dancer you told us about. In the morning, Dr. Seward will come and begin running tests on her to determine if she has fallen under the spell of the vampire. We're going to need your help. You're closer to Colette than anyone else at the opera house. We need you there to watch over her, just as you have done before."

Erik nodded. "I will come to you if I notice anything else suspicious," he said, pulling the hood up over his head. "I have to get back to her." With that, he left the doctor's office, and rode fervently back to the Opera Populaire.


	15. Chapter 15

olette sighed softly as she stared at her canvas, setting her brush down on the easel. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, looking over at the small clock that was placed on her vanity. It was 4:00 AM. She had been painting for hours and she was nowhere near finished with her work. She didn't want anyone to see it, not even the managers. It was going to be Erik's painting, the same painting that she had promised him the week before. She decided that there was no point in painting anymore tonight. She was exhausted and she didn't want to make a mess of the artwork that she was creating for her friend. She decided that she would paint the canvas when she wasn't working on the masks for the masquerade ball. She stood up from her chair and stretched, starting to undress for the night. She looked towards her mirror, thinking about her protector, wondering where he was and what he was doing. She slipped her dress off and hung it up in her closet, stopping as she heard a faint noise. She didn't move, listening. She heard his organ, playing a light melody in the distance. She closed her eyes and smiled brightly, her breathing quickening only slightly as she listened to the music. She pulled her robe on and tied it, sliding the mirror open as she followed the music, her hand resting on the wall as a guide, just as she always done before. She came to the lake, getting in the boat and rowing across quietly. She stopped when she saw him at his organ, playing the melody still. This was something that she hadn't heard before. The melody was light and almost childlike, but still beautiful and it nearly brought her to tears. Suddenly, he began to sing, not realizing that she was there.

**So many times out there I've watched a happy pair**   
**Of lovers walking in the night**   
**They had a kind of glow about them**   
**It almost looked like heaven's light**

**I knew I'd never know that warm and loving glow**   
**Though I might wish with all my might**   
**No face as hideous as my face**   
**Was ever mean for heaven's light**

**But suddenly, an angel had smiled at me**   
**And kissed my cheek without a trace of fright**

**I dared to dream that she might even care for me**   
**And as I play this piece tonight**   
**My cold, dark tower seems so bright**   
**I swear it must be heaven's light**

Colette let out a shuddering breath. He was singing about her; he had written this song for her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, and she couldn't stop them. She clapped a hand over her mouth to try and muffle her quiet sobs, deciding to turn back before she was seen. However, it was too late. He had heard her when he stopped playing, turning around and seeing her. She froze, unable to stop the tears. She cursed herself for coming down below. He had told her never to come back, and she should have listened. She swallowed the hard lump in throat as he came down the set of stairs that was there, leading to the lake. He stood at the bottom step, offering his hand to her. She rowed to him the rest of the way, taking his hand. He helped her out of the boat gently, kissing the top of her hand delicately. They didn't say a word to one another at first; only looking into each other's eyes as Erik held her hand very gently. "Do you remember when you first saw me," he asked her, leading her up the stairs and to his bed. He helped her to sit down before sitting down beside her, trying not to become distracted by the fact that she was only in a corset, stockings, and a robe.

"You do realize that was a long time ago," she said softly, turning to face him so they could talk. "I was so little then."

"I remember seeing you with your parents while you were taking a tour while deciding to become patrons of the opera house. You were so playful, and frankly, so excited to be here that you just wanted to go explore. You found a moment to separate yourself from your parents and you started exploring."

"I remember that I got lost right away," she said softly, blushing lightly. "I was so scared and embarrassed that I just wanted to hide. I still have no idea where I ended up; I just sat down and started to cry."

"Do you remember when I found you?"

She nodded. "Vaguely, but I do remember. I was sitting there, crying, unsure of where to go and afraid that I was going to get in trouble. I looked up and I saw you there, pulling down your fedora and picking me up. You didn't say a word other than that I was safe and that you wouldn't hurt me. You carried me back to the managers' office and left me there. When I turned around to thank you, you were gone. When I told my parents about what happened, they didn't say anything about it until after we returned to London. I remember hearing them fighting about it one night. They thought that I was found by this man that they used to know. Someone that started with the letter 'D.'" She rubbed her eyes tiredly, moving to lie down on the bed. "They declared that we wouldn't return to Paris ever again, and declined becoming patrons of the opera house. You said once that music was in my blood, and that's why I wanted to work in an opera house. There was something about this particular opera house that I had to come back. I wasn't sure what it was, but I knew that I wanted to come back here one day. When I began to receive your letters, I thought that there might be hope for me yet."

He moved to cover her with a blanket so she wouldn't get cold, lying beside her. "Do you remember the name that your parents said?"

"No, I don't," she replied, yawning softly. Her eyes were so heavy; she had to fight sleep. She wanted to see him. "Erik, I'm so sorry for being so rude to you before. I didn't mean to be, but I was trying to be honest with you."

"It's not your fault," he said to her, rubbing her back. "I just wish that you would have told me sooner. I promise that I won't use you as my puppet anymore."

She smiled softly, starting to drift off. "I'm working on your painting," she mumbled, her eyes closed. "I'll try and finish it as soon as I can."

He smiled a little, pushing her hair back. "You just take your time with it. I know that you're going to be busy with the masks for the masquerade ball."

"I'm going to make you a mask too," she mumbled again, nearly asleep now. Erik just smiled, kissing her forehead.

"You don't need to. I already have a costume in mind." When she didn't reply, he looked at her. He noticed her even breaths, and how lax she was. He kissed her forehead again, wondering what this was that he felt for her. He had always loved Christine, but now, that seemed to be changing especially since he had that conversation with that Van Helsing and his men. He watched her sleep, noticing how calm she was. She must have been exhausted. He kept thinking about Dracula, and he wondered how far into his grasp she was. He could only hope that he hadn't tried anything except kissing her. "Colette, I don't know if you can hear me, but I promised you before that I would protect you from the dark with every fiber of my being. I swear that I will make good on that promise. I will protect you from the dark, and all its inhabitants." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, holding her in his arms protectively throughout the duration of her sleep.

The next morning, after sleeping for nearly ten hours, Erik returned Colette to her room so she could begin working on the masks. Erik went to hide near Lucy's room so he could observe the good doctor at work, and Colette was visited by Vladimir, who greeted her with a kiss. "I couldn't resist not seeing you," he said after he kissed her, moving to close the door, wrapping his arms around her. "I have a few minutes, but that's all." He moved his hand through her hair and pulled her close, kissing her deeply. She was taking aback by the deepness of this kiss, dropping the mask that she was working on so she could move her hands to his arms. His hands moved down her back as he felt her part her lips after kissing him back, gently moving his tongue inside her mouth. She moaned lightly and he picked her up off the ground, moving to her bed. He laid her down and crawled on top, his hand moving up the skirt of her dress and resting on her thigh. She pulled away as he lightly nipped at her lower lip, breathing heavily.

"What has gotten into you," she asked him in a soft voice, looking into his eyes. He moved his hand to her cheek, stroking her cheek softly as he gave her a very warm stare, as if he was peering into her mind. She suddenly felt like her mind and judgment was cloudy, and the only thing that she could see was his eyes.

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you, my dear," he whispered as she closed her eyes, savoring his touch. "I am not going to let you go to your guardian angel so easily."

When he said this, her eyes shot open, looking at him. "How do you know -?"

He kissed her to quiet her, lifting her to him and pulling her into his lap. She kissed him back, her mind flooded with him speaking and reading her thoughts. There was no way that she could stop it. Suddenly, he pulled away, kissing her forehead. "I must go," he said, helping her to stand, handing the mask that she dropped back to her. "I will see you as soon as you have a night free." He kissed her hand, then kissed her lips again before leaving. She sat on her bed for a few moments, trying to process what had just occurred and why her mind still felt cloudy.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Dr. Seward came to the managers' office and knocked, waiting patiently for one of them to answer the door. After a few moments, Firmin came, answering the door, blinking dumbly. "Dr. Seward," he greeted, shaking the doctor's hand and opening the door so Andre could see. "What are you doing here? We didn't send for a doctor."

"I was told to come here by someone who is associated with your opera house," he said as he took his hat off, holding it in his hand. "I was told that you have a dancer who may have fallen ill."

Andre stood up from the desk as Firmin tried to find his words, turning to look back at Andre. He came around the desk, coming to escort the doctor to Lucy. "How did you find out that she was sick?"

"Let's just say that I found out from a friend," he said, turning his head slightly as they passed by Colette's room. He saw her there, sitting on the bed, working on a mask, her long blond hair cascading down her back. She looked so much like her mother. He turned his attention back to the task at hand. "Have you noticed anything wrong with the dancer within the last few days?"

"It seems like that she's a bit flighty, but that's normal for her," he said, knocking on Lucy's door. She answered right away, smiling at the two.

"Good morning, Monsieur Andre," she greeted with a polite curtsey, turning her attention to the doctor. "Who is your friend?"

"Lucy, this is Dr. Seward. He wants to check your wellbeing because someone has noticed that you are not well. Be sure to treat him with the utmost kindness and respect." Andre patted the doctor on the shoulder before retreating back to the office. The doctor smiled kindly at the lovely dancer, finding why Aiden was so attracted to her. She reminded him of his wife back in America, who he lost in childbirth and the infant as well. Lucy stepped aside and invited him in, closing the door before she sat on the bed.

"So, I suppose that Colette is the one who came to you," she asked as she smoothed out her tutu, watching the doctor as he took a chair, pulling it to her. "I saw the way that she backed out of here yesterday, even though she doesn't think that I did."

"Why don't you tell me what you have been feeling or experiencing," he asked as he examined her eyes. She told him of her symptoms and her nightmares as he checked her heart rate, making notes that it was low and she was showing the physical signs of anemia. When he moved her hair back, he noticed the puncture wounds. They were deep and those of the vampire. He swallowed and made a note of it, telling her that he would come and check on her in a few days to see how she was feeling. He advised her to eat as much as she could whenever she could, leaving her to her dancing. As he walked down the corridor, he was stopped by the Phantom, who put a finger up to his lips to stop him from crying out.

"Is it what I think it is? Did that vampire feed from her?"

"Yes," Dr. Seward said softly, rubbing his eyes. "I'll bring Professor Van Helsing as soon as I can. We'll have to start giving her transfusions as soon as possible. However, I fear that the change has already begun."

"Is there any way we can stop it?"

"Not in her case. We have to try and protect her as much as we can. You keep your concentration focused on Colette. She's going to need you now more than ever."

Erik nodded, letting the doctor go and retreating down to his lair.


	16. Chapter 16

A few days had passed and Colette had found herself completely engrossed in her work for the masquerade ball. Night and day, she found herself toiling over each and every mask. Tonight, she was focusing on one mask in particular; a mask of her own. She designed this mask specifically for her face and it was meant to be a surprise until the ball. She smiled at her work, thinking about the last few days.

The chorus members and the ballet corps were all slowly returning to the opera house to learn specific songs and choreography for the masquerade ball. Some had already picked up their masks that Colette had finished, thanking her for her beautiful work. Colette had noticed that Aiden and a few other men were hanging around Lucy's room, keeping a watchful eye on her night after night. She wondered if this had anything to do with her illness, but didn't question the men as she didn't want to interfere.

The Count was never far from Colette's mind, especially after how disoriented her thoughts became a few days before. It seemed that he was always there now, listening to her thoughts and watching her every move. She looked around her room and outside her door to make sure that no one was there. She smiled softly, closing her door only slightly, returning to work station to continue working on her mask. This time was different; she began to sing. Her sweet, angelic voice echoed throughout the entire opera house and to the depths below. She was singing an aria that no one else had heard before. However, down below, the aria invaded the composer's ears, causing him to stop working.

When Erik heard his aria and the beautiful voice that was making it come alive, he thought that Christine had returned to him and to the opera house. He never climbed to the surface so quickly in his life. He followed the voice to its point of origin, nearly falling when he discovered the person behind the voice. There was Colette, working on another mask, singing the aria that he had written, not caring who heard her. The sound of her voice had completely overtaken him and melted the ice around his heart, the same ice that had been placed there when he fell in love with Christine so no one else could invade it. He sat there on the floor while he listened to her, closing his eyes as she began to reach the crescendo of the piece. Suddenly, his eyes shot open and her singing stopped as an earth shattering scream broke through her voice. She threw the mask down and ran out of the room, Erik following in tow after he slid the mirror open. He followed her down to Lucy's room. She was screaming and moaning in both pleasure and pain while lying in her bed. Colette tried shushing her so she wouldn't wake anyone, but while her body and voice was there, her mind was not. Erik watched for a few moments, and then went to get the doctor. He didn't have to go far; he found the doctor, Aiden and Professor Van Helsing running down the hall and into Lucy's room.

"Lucy, hush," Colette whispered as she pushed Lucy's hair back, trying to make her look decent since she was nearly naked when she and Erik had found her. She looked up when she saw the men, stepping out of the way and into Erik's arms. He shielded her as they began to work on her. Aiden rolled up his sleeve and the doctor injected a needle as if they had done this before. The doctor began to pump blood into a vial, then inserting another needle into Lucy's arm while the older gentleman held the other arm down, examining her neck and shaking his head.

"There's no time to be lost," he said to the doctor, who nodded and continued the transfusion. Aiden groaned as he felt lightheaded after a few minutes. The older man looked up at Colette and Erik, seeing the light between them and the love that they shared, even though neither one of them wanted to admit it. "She shouldn't be in here," he said to the Phantom, who only nodded slightly, moving to take Colette out.

"No," she said, planting her feet, even though Erik was a lot stronger than she was. "I'm not leaving her. She's my friend."

"Well, if you're not going to leave her, you better be prepared to give her some blood. That's what's wrong with her. She's dying and needs blood, and blood she must have."

"Professor, maybe we shouldn't –"

"Fine, I'll do it," she said, moving to pull a chair up beside Aiden. Erik grabbed her hand, pulling her to him.

"I am not going to let you do this," he said, lifting her chin to look into his eyes. "I'll do it."

"Well, I'm still not leaving her. She is my friend, and I'm not going to leave her."

"You're more stubborn than your mother," the Professor commented as he checked Aiden's vitals, nodding to the doctor to stop the transfusion and have Erik take his place. Colette looked up at the old man, lifting an eyebrow when he mentioned her mother. She shook it off and took Erik's jacket from him, helping him to roll up his sleeve. Aiden took a piece of gauze from the doctor's bag, applying pressure of the puncture mark where the needle was. The Professor turned to Erik, holding his arm in place. "Have you ever done this before?"

"No," Erik replied as Colette took his hand, entwining her fingers with his.

"Well, I'm going to warn you. It's going to hurt." He motioned for the doctor to come over and inserted the needle. Erik inhaled sharply, gripping Colette's hand tightly to take his mind off the pain. The Professor turned to Colette, watching her as her focus was now on both of her friends, but she was concentrating on her Phantom. "Madame Mina incarnate," he whispered as he stared at her, breaking Colette's concentration as she looked up at the Professor.

"You knew my mother," she asked as she stood up, still holding Erik's hand.

"That I did, child, but that is a conversation for another time," he said, going back over to Lucy, who was now quiet and sleeping. He checked over her vitals, nodding to himself before turning to the doctor. "She's stabilizing, but she still needs more blood. We'll continue the transfusion for a few more minutes, and then the Phantom will be free to go."

"You won't be able to go down to the lair on your own," she said to him, watching him as he tilted his head back, breathing slowly. "You'll sleep in my bed tonight."

"And where will you sleep?"

"I'm going to stay in here with Lucy," she replied with a soft smile. "I'm going to make sure that she doesn't die on me. Maybe try and get her to eat something."

"Sorry to disappoint, Madame," the Professor said as he continued to monitor Lucy, "but she won't be awake for a while. You'll be missing out on your important work."

"My masks can wait," she said, dropping Erik's hand to go over to Lucy's bed. "She needs me."

He looked at Colette, then at Erik. "Do you think she'll be okay in here alone?"

"She'll be fine as long as someone is standing outside the door waiting for her," he said weakly as the doctor took the needle out of his arm, wrapping gauze around the puncture mark. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle that, Professor."

Colette returned to Erik's side, helping him with his sleeve and jacket, helping him to stand. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, wrapping her arm under him and assisted him with walking back to her room. "I don't have to go back," she said to him as they walked slowly, holding onto him. "I just wanted to make sure that she was okay."

"Dr. Seward will take care of her, as well as Professor Van Helsing," he replied, catching himself as he felt lightheaded, holding onto the wall. Colette tripped up, landing against Erik's chest as he leaned his back against the wall, her body pressed lightly against his. "I can't hold both of us up," he said with a soft smile, looking at her. "Not with the way that I'm feeling right now."

"I'm sorry, but did you say Dr. Seward and Professor Van Helsing," she asked, helping him to stand and walk into her room, shutting and locking the door behind them.

"That I did, my dear," he said, sitting on the bed. The blood loss made him seem like he was drunk, but Colette just stayed silent, getting him to lie down on her bed. When she went to walk away, he grabbed her by the hand, pulling her down to him. "Don't leave me, please. I don't want to be left alone."

She nodded, taking his hand sitting on the bed, looking at his mask. "Isn't that uncomfortable to sleep in?"

"Very, but I don't want to scare you," he replied, closing his eyes.

"Let me be the judge of that," she said softly, slowly moving her fingers beneath the mask and lifting it, taking the mask in her hand. He let out a little sigh of relief, letting her caress his face lightly. She held his hand, kissing the top of it softly.

"You're not afraid of me, are you," he asked, moving over so she could lay down with him. She laid down beside him, still holding his hand.

"I have never been afraid of you," she replied, closing her eyes, resting her forehead against his. "You're just misunderstood, like me."

"You're not misunderstood."

"I'm not? I prefer not to go out and people say that I'm going to end up an old maid. When I do have a date, everyone says that he's not right for me. I paint a distant dream and people wonder what kind of a terrible place my mind is. We're more alike than you think, Erik. I'm not asking you to care for me as you do Christine, but I am asking you to be there with me."

"I'm always here, Colette. I will always be there."

These words seemed to comfort her while she thought about Lucy, who was dying only a few rooms away. At least, that is what that Professor Van Helsing said. She waited until Erik was asleep before she got up again, searching through her things for something that would tell her who this professor was, as well as Dr. Seward. She knew that she had heard those names before, or at least seen them written down before. She soon found what she was looking for; her mother's journal. She opened the journal and skimmed through the entries, trying to find something that would help her with this mystery. She found entries of a prince that she met while her father was away on business in Transylvania, and how her mother fell in love with this prince even though she was also in love with her beloved Jonathan. Other entries discussed the death of her best friend from some sort of mystery illness and how Dr. Seward grieved for her deeply. Then, she wrote of having a dinner with Jonathan and Professor Van Helsing in which the professor the graphic way that her mother's best friend had died. Other entries wrote about how she felt mentally connected to this strange friend of hers, the prince, and how he was never far from her thoughts. She closed the journal, thinking about the Count and how she felt mentally connected to him. Could this prince that her mother loved and Vladimir that Colette deeply cared for are the same person? She took the journal with her as she went to Lucy's room, finding the Professor outside the door. She approached him, handing him her mother's journal. He looked up at her, unsure of what the purpose of this visit was. "You said that I was more stubborn than my mother, and you called me Madame Mina incarnate while we were trying to care for Lucy." She sat on the floor in front of the Professor, her hands folded in front of her. "Who was this prince that my mother wrote about in her journal," she asked, looking up at the Professor. "You have to know; otherwise, you wouldn't have talked about my mother in front of me. Who was he?"

The Professor stood up, then helped Colette to stand, taking her arm in his and walking her back to her room. "That, like before, is a conversation for another time. I did know your mother at one time. I would like to think that I tried to save her life. However, I believe that the light of God saved her more than I did." They came to her room and he stopped, turning her to face him. "The darkness isn't life, my child. There are lights. You, like your mother, are one of the lights, Colette. The light of all lights." He kissed her hand and left her to return to Lucy's room. She stood there, dumbfounded at first, and then she smiled. She could remember her mother saying that there was a light about her that she couldn't understand. She noticed that Professor had kept the journal to read, possibly looking for some sort of clue that may help them with understanding Lucy's illness. She went back into her room and locked the door, sitting beside the bed and watching Erik sleep throughout the night.


	17. Chapter 17

The day passed with ease for some of the opera house. As for Colette, she spent the better part of her day caring for Erik, who was still too weak to return to the lair. They were going to try and go down after he woke up, but she found that she couldn't support his weight all of the way down to the boat. She had snuck out at one point and got some food for them, taking it back to her room and locking the door so they wouldn't be disturbed. Erik scolded her for this; he didn't want to be fussed over, but he did enjoy just being near her. She peeled an apple with a knife that she had found, cutting it and offering him a piece. He took it, eating it slowly as he watched her. She found some sort of enjoyment in caring for him, but she was also worried about him. More worried than anyone had ever been in his life. She sat with him as she at a piece of the apple, trying to hide a yawn. He knew that she hadn't slept all night. She had went back and forth between her room and Lucy's room, checking on her and the men who were there, offering them anything that they needed until daylight. When the others began to emerge, she knew that she had to get back to her room so no one would come in and find Erik. He took her hand in his after he ate the piece of the apple that she had offered him, stroking the top of it softly. "You need to sleep. Your work is going to suffer if you don't rest."

"Nonsense," she said tiredly, rubbing her eyes after finishing her piece. "You're more important right now anyway. I need to make sure that you are well."

"What about your friend, the Count? Surely he won't appreciate another man spending the better part of the day in your bed."

"Who's to say that he's going to find out," she asked as she took another piece, eating it quickly. She was trying to stay awake as best as she could, but she knew that he was right. She had an awful headache; her mind was exhausted and something inside of her told her that Vladimir already knew what had occurred over the last passing hours since midnight. She took a grape and offered it to Erik, who opened his mouth and allowed her to feed it to him. She smiled, her thumb slowly running over his lower lip as he closed his mouth, eating the grape. She drew her hand away, moving it to the bed. "I have something that I want to show you because I know that you won't tell anyone." She stood up, moving over to the mask that she dropped, handing it to him. It was a mask like his, painted silver and made out of fine porcelain. He examined it, and then looked at her, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm assuming that this isn't for me," he asked, handing the mask back to her. She shook her head with a slight smile, moving to put the mask over the right side of her face.

"I'm wearing this for the masquerade ball," she said as she showed it to him before removing it. "I still have to have a black ribbon for it, but it won't take me long to get it."

"Are you sure that's in good taste?"

"What do you mean? Do people know what kind of mask you wear?"

"As far as I know, no they do not. However, Christine has seen me, and so has Madame Giry. They may take offense as to what you are trying to do."

"I do not care," she said in a stern tone, placing the mask back at her work station. "If people can dress up as animals and skeletons, then I should be able to dress up as a female ghost."

"I'm only trying to protect you," he said as he moved his hand to her cheek, stroking it softly before moving to put his mask back on, sitting up in bed. "I think it's going to be a great costume. I think you need to wear your hair twisted, with curls, bringing it over to the left side since the mask is on your right." He pulled her long, blond hair over her left shoulder, his knuckles brushing over the skin of her shoulder gently as he felt the soft texture of her hair. "Yes, I think that would be quite beautiful."

"I have to agree," a third voice said, interrupting the moment that Erik was beginning to enjoy. The two looked up, seeing Vladimir standing in the doorway, the door standing wide open. Colette held her breath; how was this possible? She was sure that she locked the door after she had returned with the food. She stood quickly and Erik did as well, happy that he put his mask back on when he did. "Well," the Count said while turning his attention to Colette has he closed the door and locked it. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Colette was lost; she couldn't find her words or her voice. She wanted to speak and tell the Count the truth as to who Erik was, but she couldn't put him in danger. She vowed to protect him, and that's what she was going to do. "This is the wonderful artist who has been creating the various masks for me to paint and design for the masquerade ball," she replied smoothly, moving to stand beside her work station. "He brought me this beautiful mask that I will be wearing for the ball."

Vladimir looked at Erik, who was staring right back at him. He knew that she was lying; however, he wouldn't dare call her on it. He looked Erik up and down before looking at the mask, curling his lip to it. "I thought you could go as something a little more delicate, such as…an angel."

Erik was ready to kill the Count, any way that he could. Erik balled his hand into a fist, clearing his throat. "Well, I understand that you need the rest of the masks to complete you work," he said to her, moving to leave through the door. "I'll bring them to you first thing in the morning."

"Are you sure that you should go out that way, monsieur," the Count asked him, standing in front of the door, blocking Erik's way out. "I'm sure that you don't want everyone to see you."

"Vladimir, the only ones who are up this late are me, you, and the wolves of the night," Colette said, grabbing the Count's cold hand and pulling him away from the door. "Let him go home; he has a lot of work to complete."

Erik unlocked and opened the door, turning to look back at Colette only for a moment before leaving. When he stepped out, the Count slammed the door closed and locked it again, leaving Erik to wonder what terrible things he was going to do to Colette. Someone whispered to him as he went to break the door down. He looked to his left and saw Van Helsing, waving him to come to Lucy's room. He took refuge there as he waited for Vladimir to leave, wishing that he could hear what they were saying.

"I cannot believe that you had another man in here," he yelled at her, towering over her as his eyes glowed like fire. "I know that he wasn't the mask designer!"

"You don't need to worry about who he is," she yelled back, moving to leave the room. He grabbed her, throwing her to the bed.

"Was he your secret friend," he asked, looking down at her. When she didn't reply, he grabbed her up by both of her arms, staring down into her eyes. "Was he?!"

"I will not tell you," she screamed as she fought to escape his grasp. He pushed her down to the bed, wrapping his hand around her throat, squeezing only lightly, enough to make her gasp. "Let go of me," she said through strained voice, slapping at him. When she struck him across the face, he snarled and growled, turning his face back to her and baring his teeth. There, in place of his canines, were two sharp fangs. She froze, her breath seemingly leaving her body. Dear God, what had she done? He grabbed ahold of her hair and pulled sharply, her neck cracking loudly as she gasped. He could see her vein pulsing rapidly, and he could so easily take her. When he leaned down to do so, something inside of him made him stop. He closed his eyes as the fangs shortened, giving the illusion that the canines were there instead.

"Colette," he whispered as wolves began to howl so loudly that they sounded like they were just outside the window. "Colette," he whispered again, turning her head gently to him, making her look into his eyes. Her mind was cloudy again, the recent memories of the past few minutes fading away. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I love you, and I don't want you to leave me. Please say that you'll be mine. Please say that you'll marry me." She didn't answer, but he knew that she had heard him. He leaned down, kissing her earlobe. "Close your eyes," he whispered, watching her as she did so. "Listen to them: the children of the night," he said softly, indicating the wolves. "What beautiful and sweet music they make, just as your secret friend does." He moved to sit up, waving a hand over her face. "Sleep, my beloved. Soon, all of this will be just a distant dream." He watched as her breaths became even and deep, standing and leaving the room, disappearing into the shadows.

"You don't understand," Erik protested as Aiden and the doctor tried to restrain him, which he shoved off with no effort. "He's going to kill her! I saw the look in his eyes! He was looking at her like she was a five course meal!"

"Erik," Professor Van Helsing said calmly, putting his hands to chest to stop him and his finger to his lips to silence him. "Let them work it out. I need to see her as soon as he's done. He's probably still full from Lucy, so he won't feed on her. I swear to you, she will be all right."

Erik didn't waste another moment. He pushed past the old man and ran to Colette's room, finding the door open. He stopped, fearing the worst. He put his hand to the door and slowly pushed it open, seeing her on the bed. His heart sank down to the pit of his stomach as he approached her, swallowing the hard lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He looked at her, the tears burning in his eyes as he cursed himself for not being able to protect her, just as he vowed. Then, she breathed; it was deep and slow. He let out a shuddering breath as he knelt beside her bed, checking her neck for any bite marks. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he found that her neck didn't show any sign of wounds or blood. He sat down, removing his mask and rubbing his eyes, putting it back on quickly when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Soon, Van Helsing and Dr. Seward appeared coming in to examine Colette. "She's fine," Erik choked out, staying beside her on the floor, holding her hand. "She's asleep."

"Let me be the judge of that," Van Helsing replied, coming over to the bed and checking her pulse. Next, he listened to her breathing and opened one of her eyelids. Her eyes were rolled back into her head and she didn't stir. "Hm, just as I thought."

"What," Erik questioned, standing up while still holding Colette's hand.

"This sleep that she's in is not a natural sleep. He induced this. I could only see the whites of her eyes and her eyes didn't react when I opened her eyelid. He was able to easily induce this sleep since she was exhausted from being up all night and all day. I'm sure that he's erasing her memory of whatever occurred in here after you left."

"Well, I don't care if he comes back and kills me," Erik declared as he pulled up a chair, sitting beside her. "I'm not leaving her. If he wants her so badly, he'll have to kill me first."

"Don't wish that upon yourself. If she is able to survive the Count's grasp, she won't have anyone to come back to." With that, the two left, leaving Erik alone with Colette. As soon as Van Helsing and Dr. Seward were gone, he locked the door and returned to Colette's bedside. He brushed her hair from her eyes, watching her throughout the night, singing to her to bring her back to him. He hoped that she would be able to return to him, fully. He couldn't understand why he was feeling like this with her; he was so conflicted with his emotions that he wasn't sure how to express them. He eventually laid beside her and just held her. Just the feel of her body against his was enough to ease his mind and take it off of the Count for the time being. That was all he asked for; a moment's thought where the Count wasn't there.


	18. Chapter 18

Throughout the remainder of the night and well into the next day, Erik didn't leave Colette's bedside while she slept off the Count's spell. He noticed that there was a change in her during the afternoon while she slept. The sleep that she was in had become more natural; she was tossing and turning, and from what Erik could tell, possibly dreaming as well. People were knocking on the door all day, requesting their masks. When she didn't answer, they just went away, assuming that she was deep into her work. The clock chimed seven after the sun had set when there was another quiet knock at the door. Then a voice broke Erik's concentration; a beautiful, delicate voice that he knew all too well. "Madame Artiste," the voice said on the other side, a chill going down Erik's spine as he stood up, smoothing out his hair and adjusting his mask. "I came to see if you were all right and to see if my mask was ready, but if you're busy, I can come back later." Erik went to the door, making sure that he was properly concealed as he opened it and the person behind the voice stepped inside. It was a woman who was about Colette's age, with long, curly brown locks and brown eyes. She was wearing a blue dress with a matching cloak, wearing a red scarf around her neck. As she stepped in further, she removed her hood from the cloak as Erik shut the door. She turned and nearly screamed, putting a finger to her lips to keep her quiet. His Angel of Music was here, right in front of him. What a perfect opportunity to take her away from Raoul. But something stopped him; something told him that Colette needed him and this wasn't the time to take Christine, his Angel, away from that boy. When she was calm, he removed the finger from her lips, allowing her to speak. "What are you doing here," she asked in hushed, frantic whisper, looking over at the bed and seeing Colette there, sound asleep. "Do you realize that if I was anyone else, you would be dead by now?"

"Yes, I am aware of the risks that I have taken within the last forty-eight hours, but at this point I really don't care." He picked up a mask that was marked for Christine, handing it to her. "I had to see you."

"I don't have long. Raoul is waiting for me."

"So you have really chosen him then," he asked, moving back to the chair that he was originally sitting in, watching her. "There's nothing else that I can do to convince you?"

"You have killed people. You are a monster."

"I am not a monster," he said, standing back up and going to her, towering over her as he gripped her arm so she wouldn't escape. "I have spent the better part of the past day and a half caring for that child that you see in the bed. She is my friend."

"The only reason why you're calling her your friend is because you cannot have me anymore," Christine said, pulling her arm away from him. "You're luring her into your grasp, just as you lured me in all of those years ago. There's nothing that you can do to convince me that we belong together."

He just stared at her for a few moments before going to the door, concealing himself as he opened it. "I will get you to return to me. You cannot resist my pull on you; you never have." She only glared at him, leaving the room quickly. He closed the door and locked it again, sighing heavily. When he looked over at the bed again, Colette was laying there, her eyes wide open and watching him. She moved to sit up, slowly, looking at him. He came over to her, but she put her hand up to stop him, staring at him.

"Was that her," she asked softly, watching him for his reactions. When he didn't answer, she asked again. "Was that Christine?"

"Yes," he said softly, standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching her. "That was her."

"She's very pretty," Colette observed, standing up slowly and going over to her work station to finish her work on the remaining masks. "It's no wonder that you love her."

"How do you know that I love her?"

"Because I can see it in your eyes," she replied as she focused on her work, not looking at him. "No matter how much you tell me that you care for me and that I'm your friend, she will always be there in your mind instead."

"Colette, please –"

"Just go," she dismissed, waving her hand at him. He went to say something more, but didn't, taking his leave through the mirror and returning to the lair. She sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes, her mind on this vivid dream that she had.

Erik was there with her, and even though they were not caught in a lover's embrace, Vladimir was furious. He dismissed Erik quickly, banishing him from her room. They argued and he pinned her to the bed. She slapped him and he flashed these terrifying fangs at her. She feared the worst. Even now, as she was reflecting on the dream in her mind, it frightened her. Then, sleep overtook her. But she remembered his words, even some that she didn't think he said, but they were in her mind.

_Please say you'll be mine. Please say that you'll marry me._

_Be mine or you will burn._

She shuddered at the thought, finding it difficult to concentrate on her masks now. She got up and gathered some clothes, retreating to the bathing hall to freshen up. She drew her own bath, using lavender oils to soothe her thoughts and her body. Once the tub with full of hot water, she stripped down and got in, letting out a little sigh as her body relaxed, slipping under the water to soak her hair. She closed her eyes before doing so, quickly emerging as she ran her hands over her wet hair. She leaned over and grabbed a cloth and sponge, starting to wash her body. She didn't realize that she wasn't alone. Not until he spoke.

"Have you given any thought about what I asked you last night," he asked, making her gasp and jump, covering herself as best as she could. She looked over, seeing Vladimir, standing there and watching her bathe. He grabbed a stool and placed it by her tub, sitting down.

"You're picking a wonderful time to visit me," she replied, her body pressed against the side of the tub to cover her body. "Couldn't this wait?"

"I had to see you," he said, stroking her cheek softly. "The managers sent word that you hadn't been seen all day and a lot of people didn't get their masks, with the exception of Christine Daae. I had to make sure that you were all right."

"I was up all night the night before with Lucy. She's ill." She moved to adjust, making sure that she was still covered. "I just finally gave into sleep after I worked on masks all day with no sleep."

"You must be a very heavy sleeper," he told her, looking down at her buttocks, which were exposed through the water. "No one could rouse you today."

"Well, considering the fact that I was up for over twenty-four hours, that comes to no surprise." She moved to turn her back to him, washing her arms, neck and chest. "I don't understand why you're here, watching me while I bathe, and I won't be able to finish until you leave."

"Why are you being so shy," he asked, smiling at her when she turned her head to look at him, shrugging lightly.

"If anyone knew that you were in here, they would have a field day with the rumors," she said, turning again as she covered her chest with the cloth that she had grabbed, looking at him. "You shouldn't even be looking at me like this until we are married."

"So you are going to marry me," he asked with a grin, stroking her cheek, his fingers pressed lightly under her chin.

"I didn't say that. I just said that you shouldn't be gazing at my naked body until we were married."

"Why don't you see what all the talk is about," he asked, his fingers going down to her neck, massaging her dampened skin gently.

"Because I'm not like that," she said softly, closing her eyes as she moved her head into his hand more, enjoying the feel of his fingers. "I want to save myself for marriage. I always have."

"Yes, but there is nothing wrong with experiencing," he said, lifting her naked body out of the tub, sitting her on his lap. He cupped her chin his fingers, kissing her. She kissed him back slowly, her hands still covering her chest. He took her hands, lowering them as he deepened the kiss, his other hand on her neck, pulling her in close. She let out a little moan, parting her lips only slightly, but that was enough for Vladimir. He slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth, massaging it against hers. She soon followed suit, her whole body starting to tingle and warm to his touch and to his kiss. He smiled against her lips as he kissed her again, his hand moving down her neck and to her delicate breast. She gasped softly, moving to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around her waist, not allowing her to move. He massaged her breast, moving his lips down and kissing her neck lightly. Colette couldn't describe what was happening to her; it felt like her entire body had gone numb, but she could still feel his touch. Something was also happening between her legs that she didn't dare speak of. She could feel his lips breaking into a small smile against her skin as he continued to massage her breast, his thumb gently moving over her soft, pink nipple, causing it to harden and Colette to whimper in pleasure. "Mm, I know that noise," he whispered to her, smirking a little as his thumb and index finger very lightly pinched her nipple, hardening it more. "You're starting to enjoy this, aren't you?" When she didn't answer, he moved his lips back to hers, kissing her gently. "You don't have to be embarrassed about what you're feeling. Just tell me the truth; are you starting to enjoy this?"

"Yes," she admitted in a whisper, her eyes closed. "I wish we were somewhere more private so no one could disturb us."

He smiled, kissing her and holding her close to him. He used his power to bring her back to her room, locking the door with his mind. "Open your eyes, my love," he whispered against her skin, kissing it softly. He heard her gasp when she saw where she was, but at the same time, she didn't care how they got there. She tilted her head back and he kissed her neck more. He moved to lay her down, removing his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only slightly. He moved to lay down on top of her and she kissed him, her hands on his cheeks. "I will not take you just yet," he whispered to her so they wouldn't be heard. "I will let you keep that until we are married. However, I do want you to feel, to experience pleasure and I want it to be with me. If you feel uncomfortable, tell me and I will stop. Do you understand?"

She understood; she just didn't care. Her body was telling her to give in and she wanted to, badly. She pulled him down and kissed him deeply, her hands gripping his shirt. As he held the kiss, his hands ran graciously over his lover's beautiful curves, feeling her smile against his lips. He slid his tongue in her mouth again, massaging it gently against hers while he cupped her breast again, playing with the nipple. She let out a little gasp, her body arching to him, asking for more. He pulled away and kissed down her neck and collarbone, stopping when he got to her breast. He couldn't get over the fact how luscious her breasts were; virginal, untouched, beautiful breasts that were at his mercy. He took the other breast in his mouth and suckled very gently, causing Colette to arch more and moan very lightly. Her hands moved to his back, clawing at him while he suckled and played with her breast, his teeth running along her nipple, causing it to harden. The feeling between her legs was becoming stronger and the warm sensation that her body was feeling before had invaded the core, the very fiber of her being. He groaned lightly when he felt her nails digging into his back through his shirt, moving his lips back up to her and kissed her. His hand moved down to her breast and to her thigh, slowly moving up to where the source of the heat was the strongest. She kissed him back in anticipation, wondering what he was going to do. Then, she felt a finger, his finger, just resting there on the entrance. She let out little gasps when she felt his touch, her body begging for more. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, kissing her earlobe gently. "I can feel how warm and wet you are," he told her, his finger starting to move over her lips and the little knob that rested there. She reacted immediately, her hips moving against his hand. "Mm, my little artist would like more, wouldn't she?"

"Yes," she begged, her body and her mind succumbing to the pleasure that he was giving her. He kissed her deeply and used his finger to relieve the pressure that she was feeling. He knew that it wouldn't take her long, not with the way his fingers moved. He just moved over the lips and the knob, watching her as she moaned and writhed in the bed, smiling at the thought of his handy work. He stopped only for a moment, just long enough to slowly move a finger inside of her. He groaned lightly at the feel of her untouched, sacred core; so tight and wet that it drove him insane not being inside of her. She opened her mouth to release a moan, but he clapped his hand over her mouth. She looked at him, wondering what he was up to.

"You'll wake the whole opera house," he whispered to her with a smirk, leaning up to kiss her again, holding the kiss while his finger began to move. She only nodded, understanding what he meant, moaning against his lips. He continued to kiss her while enjoying the feel of her, wishing that he was inside of her. However, this would do for now. He could feel her walls reacting to his touch, contorting and squeezing around his finger while her cries were muffled into their kisses. The pace quickened only slightly, but it was enough for her. She fell from the edge and moaned loudly as she kissed him, her walls squeezing around his finger tightly as her body went rigid, her breathing heavy and her arms wrapped tightly around him. He just held her for a while, his finger remaining inside of her until she was able to relax, soon falling asleep. He wrapped the blankets around her before kissing her and leaving the room to return to his home. It would only be a matter of time now until she was completely.

He just had to get rid of the Phantom first.


	19. Chapter 19

When Colette awoke the next morning, she couldn't contain her excitement of what had happened the night before. What she had felt last night with Vladimir was something that she had never felt before, and wanted to tell Lucy immediately. As she dressed, she realized that she had other things to attend to before she could visit Lucy. Throughout the day, she worked diligently to deliver the remaining masks to the chorus members and the ballet corps. After delivering the masks, she went to Lucy's room, gasping slightly as Professor Van Helsing came out of her room, greeting her. The emergence of Van Helsing made her jump out of her skin and she put a hand to her chest to try and stop her racing heart. "Professor Van Helsing," she said as she regained control, standing up straight as she looked at him. "You know how to sneak up on a person. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Please forgive me, Madame Colette," he said with a smile, taking her hand and patting it. "I heard that you wanted to see our dear Lucy, and I wanted to catch you before you came bursting in."

"Oh, no," she said, dreading that Lucy's condition had worsened over the passing days. "How is she?"

"She's still very weak, and you'll notice that she is paler than normal. That's due to the anemia. I just didn't want you to be shocked when you see her." He took her by the arm and led her away from the door. "She'll tell you that she saw your beloved Erik over the last passing days. She remembers him. He visited her quite a bit after you woke up yesterday."

"Erik was here," she asked in a whisper. "He's lucky that he wasn't caught."

"Well, I think he worries for you and your friend. I, too, worry for all young lovers." He smiled at her and took her in a dancer's frame, waltzing around with her, stopping when they had returned to the door. "I hope that you will save me a dance at the masquerade ball." He opened the door for Colette, ushering her inside. "Go now; see your friend."

Colette couldn't get her head wrapped around this professor. He was definitely an eccentric, but what was it about her that drew him to her? When she stepped into the room, she refrained from gasping when she saw Lucy. She was pale; she looked like she was dead. She was lying in her bed with flowers around her bed and what Colette could see were cloves of garlic. She smiled at her friend as Lucy turned her head to see who was coming into her room now, grinning when she saw Colette. "Colette," she said in a raspy voice, reaching to her. Colette smiled back at her friend, taking her hand and sitting on the bed. Lucy's hand was freezing, but when she wrapped her frail fingers around Colette's hand, she didn't want to pull away. "You look different, Colette," Lucy observed as she touched her friend's hair, grinning. "You're positively radiant. You have been with the Count, haven't you?"

"Yes," she said with a smile, moving her other hand to clasp her friend's hand in hers, hoping that she was providing some warmth. "Lucy, I just don't know how describe the way that I felt last night. I would spill on the details, but there are other ears here."

"You will have to tell me later if we ever get a moment alone," she replied with a smile, looking at her friend. "There's something else, isn't there?"

She nodded, sighing a little. "He asked me to marry him, but I don't know what I'll do. I don't want to leave you when you're this sick."

"Colette, don't worry about spoiled little Lucy," she said, scolding her friend for not replying to the Count's marriage proposal. "You have to go to him, you have to love him, and marry him at the earliest opportunity. Don't worry about your other friend either…oh, what was his name? He sang me to sleep. Erik! That was his name!"

"What do you mean, don't worry about him," she asked, taking her hands away from her friend, setting them in her lap. "Why shouldn't I worry about him?"

"Because you know that he loves Christine. He'll never consider being with you."

"Lucy," she said softly, moving to stand. "That's a cruel thing to say."

"I'm sorry," she replied softly, rolling over to rest. "I don't know what I say half of the time anymore," she mumbled, giving the illusion that she was asleep. Colette watched her for a moment, wiping a stray tear that had fallen from her eye as she moved the flower vase closer to Lucy to try and soothe her, hearing the hushed voices of Dr. Seward, Van Helsing and Aiden behind her. She set the vast down and began to walk away. Lucy began to wheeze, tearing at her clothes, turning around and grabbing the vase. She threw it and it broke, shattering in pieces on the floor. "This is why I can't breathe," she growled and the three men rushed in, holding her to the bed.

"Lucy, it's medicinal," Dr. Seward told her while he tried to soothe her, holding her down with Van Helsing. "It's to help you to dream better dreams."

"It's garlic," she screamed, tearing at her clothes more, trying to get them off. "It's nothing but common garlic!"

"Lucy, Aiden's here," Dr. Seward said as he moved up to let Aiden through, Van Helsing doing the same. Van Helsing came over to stand by Colette, wanting to shield her from Lucy's fit, but he wanted to let her be there for her friend. "Aiden's here to see you."

"Now, Lucy," Aiden said as he sat on the bed, taking both of Lucy's hands and holding them still. "Lucy, you need to rest. I'm here to help take care of you, but if you don't get better right away, I'm going to have to put you out of your misery and I don't want to do that."

"Oh, Aiden," she said in a low, seductive voice, holding onto his hands tightly. "You are such a beast. Will you kiss me, Aiden?" He nodded slightly, leaning down to give her a kiss. As he did so, her hands moved up to his neck and she pulled him down violently, trying to bite him. Colette gasped when she saw two glistening fangs in place of her canines. The other two men acted quickly, one of them pulling Aiden away from Lucy and the other holding Lucy down. "Get off me," she screamed and snarled until Van Helsing coaxed her to go to sleep. Once she was calm, Van Helsing showed the men where the fangs were retracting to, calling her a 'nosferatu.' After Aiden and Dr. Seward took over to tuck her in, Van Helsing came over to apologize for Lucy's behavior, but Colette stopped him, pulling him out of the room.

"Those fangs," she said, talking to him in a hushed voice. "What were they?"

"Colette, that is a conversation for –"

"No," she said, staring him down. "You've been saying things to me ever since you arrived here, then when I ask about them, you tell me that they are for a conversation at another time. Well, I'm declaring it that other time now, Professor Van Helsing. You tell me what you know now."

Van Helsing looked at her. He found that she was more headstrong than her mother, and defiant in a way. He nodded, offering his arm to her. "Come, let's go to dinner. I'll tell you everything then."

Once they arrived at the restaurant, Van Helsing nearly ordered everything on the menu, as well as a bottle of wine. While he didn't partake in the alcohol, Colette did, only pouring one glass for the time being. "Here, feast," he said, loading up her plate with various foods. "You're going to need your strength for the dark days ahead."

"How do you know that they are dark days ahead," she asked as she sipped at her wine before starting to eat slowly.

"There are always dark days ahead of us," he replied, drinking his coffee. "It's up to people like you to make them brighter days."

"Professor, what is happening to Lucy? I've seen those fangs somewhere before. Only it was like a dream, but I have seen them before."

He sighed a little, setting his coffee cup down, looking at Colette. "I want you to take what I'm about to tell you in all seriousness, Colette. Because it's not Lucy who is in danger; it's you."

"Me? Why?"

"What is happening to Lucy is simple, and yet complicated at the same time. She is turning into a creature of the night, a bitch of the Devil if you will pardon my French."

"But why is this happening to her?"

"Because he is using her to get to you," he said, stuffing his mouth full of food again.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Your beloved, Count Vladimir," he replied with a mouth full of food, drinking his coffee before swallowing. "He is not what he seems to be, Colette, which is why you need to be careful."

"Why can't you just be straightforward with me, Professor? I'm tired of playing this puzzle games with you."

"All right," he said, putting his fork down, folding his hands and looking at her. "Eighteen years ago, your father was up against an evil force that tried to take your mother away from this world. This evil force is called Dracula, a vampire. Your mother barely escaped his grasp when we fought against him the first time. Somehow, this vampire rose from the dead, regained his strength and returned to London to seek his revenge. Then, he found you." He waited for her to say something, but when she didn't, he continued. "You stayed home that night when your parents went to the theater. He could have taken you then, but he decided to wait instead and make you fall in love with him. So, he killed your parents to get them out of the way, and get to you. He created the persona of Vladimir de Maurier to throw us off of his scent, but we found him. You may not believe me, Colette, but that is why we're here. We are here to keep you safe and to try and save Lucy. However, I'm going to tell you right now that Lucy's future is beginning to look grim. She may not survive this no matter what we try to do to save her."

Colette sat back in her chair, downing her wine. "Are you telling me that this man that I've been with, this person that has been in love with me since the first moment he saw me is really a vampire that's seeking his revenge on my family by killing my parents and turning me into a vampire?"

"Essentially, yes, that's what I'm trying to tell you. You need to end this relationship with him and fast so we can protect you. We know where he has been living here in Paris; we'll be going there tonight to destroy his refuge so he won't have anywhere to hide."

"Professor, this is all a little much," she said as she stood, ready to leave.

"I understand," he said, leaving money on the table to pay for the meal, allowing her to take his arm as he escorted her back to the opera house. "But soon, you will see that I am right, and your friend and angel has been watching over you this whole time."

"Erik?"

He nodded. "You're all that he talks about anymore. He wonders what you're doing, what you're painting, and what you're singing." When she stopped to ask him how he knows this, he explained. "He's been watching over Lucy some nights. He talks in his sleep. He used to mutter 'Christine.' Lately, he's been muttering 'Colette.' You need to go to him and talk to him. Forgive him for loving Christine. He loves you as well."

"I can't forgive him yet," she replied softly, looking away from Van Helsing. "I'm not ready to forgive him yet."

"I know you love him also," he said as they arrived at the opera house. "You just don't want to admit it because you know that your heart is conflicted already." He kissed her hand before taking their separate ways. "Goodnight, Madame Colette. Sleep well." He went into Lucy's room and she returned to hers. She closed the door after getting her brushes, paints and her pallet, setting up her easel to work on the painting of Erik. She sighed softly as she thought about him, wondering what he was doing while she painted. Her mind soon traveled to what Van Helsing told her about her parents being killed by Vladimir. Could he have really done those things, just so he could have her all to himself? No, Vladimir and Dracula are not the same person. Dracula is a bloodthirsty monster; Vladimir is too gentle and good to do something like that. Or at least, she thought that he was gentle and good and wouldn't kill anyone. Erik is gentle and good as well, but he has also killed people, people that had wronged him in some way or another. Was Vladimir the same as Erik? Could he really kill people on a whim? She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away as she continued to focus on the painting.


	20. Chapter 20

The night before the masquerade ball, Erik met Van Helsing and the others just outside of the city at a rundown mansion that had been destroyed in a fire a number of years before. Erik's mind was all over the place; he was thinking about his plan for the masquerade ball, as well as Christine and Colette. Over the passing weeks while he was caring for Lucy with the others, he had become worried for Colette, especially after she had sent him away and she didn't try to come down to his home since that night. Christine had Raoul; somehow, he knew that she was happy. However, he still had to try and win her over for he loved her still. Colette's beautiful, pure voice still rang in his head. She was beginning to plague his dreams, and Van Helsing knew it. He told him of how longingly he said her name while he slept and Van Helsing took his shift to care for Lucy. On this particular night, it was unbelievably cold. A new blanket of snow lay upon the ground and it was enough to leave a trail and to warn the Count that there were intruders in his mist. Once Erik caught up with the others, he found that Van Helsing was carrying an exorcism kit and Dr. Seward and Aiden were carrying axes and various weapons. Again, he found Aiden sharpening his Bowie knife, which Erik didn't understand. When Van Helsing saw him, he greeted him with a nod, taking an axe from the doctor and handing it to him. "I'm happy that you found the place all right," he said while he picked up his bag, carrying his Bible. "Here's the plan: in that seemingly deserted house are a number of boxes with dirt in them. That dirt is from his castle in Transylvania; he needs it to rest in to keep his strength up. Our goal is to destroy the boxes and hopefully, he'll be in one of them and we'll be able to destroy him while he's weak. While you three work on destroying the boxes, I'll work on destroying the dirt."

"How can you destroy dirt," Erik asked as the group of men began to walk into the mansion, all of them cautious of what they would find.

"I have to perform an exorcism on it to make it become holy ground. He won't be able to rest here again. Now, he can move about in the daytime; I do want to warn you of that. If he returns here tonight, he'll probably move about during the day until his powers begin to wane." They came to the main foyer of the mansion, finding a number of wooden crates that were bore the Count's crest. "I can only hope that he doesn't have another crate somewhere hidden that he can retreat to. Let's get started."

The men nodded and went to work, breaking open the boxes with their axes and throwing the broken pieces of wood into a pile to burn once they were done. Van Helsing opened his Bible and began to speak in Latin to bless the dirt. Once he found a moment, Erik approached Aiden who was working on a box nearby, clearing his throat. "What's your story," he asked as he swung his axe, cracking open the box beside Aiden and breaking it apart. "It seems like every time I see you, you're sharpening that Bowie knife of yours. Why?"

Aiden stopped, only for a moment, looking at the person that he only addressed as the Phantom. "I'm going to tell you this once, and then I won't speak to you again because we have another task at hand. When I was three, my uncle became one of God's madmen when they fought against Dracula the first time. Don't ask me how he became involved because I don't know." He pulled his Bowie knife from its holster, showing it to Erik. "This was my uncle's. He used it to stab Dracula in the heart before he died. He died in Dr. Seward's arms after Mina went into the castle with 'her love.'" Erik noticed the hint of disgust when Aiden spoke of Colette's mother, but allowed him to continue. "When she emerged from the castle, she had this in her hand, telling them that the vampire was dead. She had stabbed him to the hilt of this knife, and she watched him die. My father received a note a few months after his death, along with the knife. Jonathan and Mina felt that the knife should go back with his family, even if his body couldn't. My father passed the Bowie knife down to me after he died, and I came to Europe to find my uncle's body and to bring him home to his family. That's when and how I met Van Helsing. I sharpen it constantly to remind me of what I'm here for; to kill the vampire and anyone that has fallen under his spell." He put the Bowie knife back, and then resumed his work.

The work continued well into the night until the crates were destroyed and the men started a fire to burn the pieces. Van Helsing continued to chant in Latin to continue the exorcism. Erik helped throw more pieces of the crates onto the now raging fire until he stopped, something singing in his ear. He slowly turned around as he dropped the pieces of wood. Something was calling him. A beautiful voice; a voice that he had never heard before. He slowly began to walk away from the group until he felt an arm gripping him, pulling him back. It was Aiden, who was already annoyed. "This isn't the time to go scampering off," he said in a stern tone as Erik pulled his arm back, his head turning toward where the voice was coming from.

"Can't you hear that," he asked him, his voice quiet under Van Helsing's Latin.

"Hear what?"

"A voice," Erik replied as Aiden snapped at the professor to wrap it up and to get the doctor's attention. "It's calling me," he replied dreamily as Van Helsing finished the exorcism, running towards it as soon as he saw Aiden turn away. The others called for him, running behind him to catch up as quickly as they could. Erik entered a room that was only a few feet away from the foyer, panting softly as the voice grew louder, as if someone was standing beside him. The room was bare; only a bed remained in the charred remains. The voice had completely engulfed his mind as something or someone took him by the hand, pulling him towards the bed.

_Come to me, my Angel._

_Lie with me in my arms._

As quickly as he sat on the bed, sleep began to overtake him. He felt hands all over him and soft, caressing lips on his skin. He felt his body being pushed down to the bed, which he didn't fight. He had never felt like this before, and quite frankly, he was enjoying it. Until he heard piercing screams and hissing, and soon felt someone taking his hand and pulling him away from the sirens that had plagued his mind. That was when he saw them; three women, all dressed in a mixture of Greek and Romanian fashion, and all of them baring their fangs and hissing at the group as Van Helsing held his crucifix in front of them, chanting the same verse over and over. "We're strong in the Lord, His power and His might!" One of the women lunged at the Professor, and soon discovered that her efforts were futile when she found that Aiden had plunged the Bowie knife into her chest. When she looked up at him with pleading eyes, he took an axe with his free hand and sliced her head off in one chop from the base of her neck. Blood spewed out violently as Van Helsing continued to corner the other two women and Erik watched on, completely overcome with shock with what had just happened. He was about to be vampire food, and he would have lost Colette forever. The doctor eventually smacked him across the face, bringing him back to reality just as Aiden pulled the Bowie knife from the corpse of the vampire. "Welcome back, Phantom," the doctor said as he handed an axe and sword to Erik, as if to tell him to have at the women who were about to feed from him. Erik nodded and lunged at the women just as Van Helsing stopped chanting and backed away, allowing Aiden and Erik to team up to end the vampires' cursed life. The woman fought back hard, but were soon defeated when their weapons pierced their bodies and decapitated shortly after. Erik panted heavily, pulling the sword from the vampire's chest cavity, looking at Aiden as he wiped the Bowie knife clean, grabbing the pieces of the bodies and heading to the fire.

"What is he doing now," Erik ask before following suit, following Aiden with Van Helsing and Dr. Seward in tow.

"We have to burn the bodies," he replied, returning to his spot where the fire was. He shook his head, looking at Erik. "Do you realize how lucky you were back there?"

"Weren't those vampires?"

"Not just any vampires; those were his brides."

"Brides," he questioned as Aiden grabbed the body parts from Erik, throwing them onto the fire.

"Yes, brides," Van Helsing replied as he helped Aiden, picking up his crucifix to put it back into his bag, turning his attention back to Erik. "The Brides are vampires, usually all female, that will do his bidding for him. They will hunt and kill for him, as well as fulfill sexual favors that he desires of them."

"And Colette would be subjected to that," Erik said angrily, gripping the handle of his sword.

"She will be subjected to much more than that," a voice said in the darkness, which caused the men to turn around, seeing Dracula standing on what was left of the bannister, watching as the men drew their weapons and Van Helsing drew his crucifix. He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really think you can destroy me with your idols and your meager weapons," he asked, reaching his hand out and twisting it in one direction, causing the crucifix to twist and contort out of Van Helsing's hand. "This was a really pathetic attempt, Van Helsing. It's a good thing that I have a place that is hidden away that I have been using a back-up. Ah, my poor brides. What a sad ending for them, but Colette will not end that way." He turned to Erik, staring directly into his soul. "Even if her end comes, it will be by your hand."

"I will not end her, and I will not allow you to end her," he screamed, lunging forward to stab at the vampire. However, his effort was a futile one. As quickly as Erik lunged forward, Dracula disappeared into thin air, soon reappearing and hanging upside down from one of the rafters above. Erik growled, pointing his sword up at him. "She will never be yours! I won't allow it!"

"She's already mine more than you know, Phantom," Dracula replied with a grin, dropping from the rafter and turning into a bat and flying off into the darkness. Aiden pulled out a pistol and shot at the bat until he ran out of bullets, shaking his head and pocketing it again. Erik was fuming; he let out a scream as he took a piece of charred lumber, throwing it across the room.

"It is to be war between us, Dracula," he screamed into the darkness as he ran outside, the others following him and putting their hands on him to hold him back, even though Dracula was long gone. "If you do not stay away from Colette, it will be the end of you!"


	21. Chapter 21

The next day, everyone was bustling around the Opera Populaire, preparing for the masquerade ball, including Colette who was assisting the others with their costumes and make-up. She was also fighting with Lucy as she and the others fought with her to stay in bed. Once they finally got Lucy to settle down and rest, Colette retreated to her room to begin her preparation for the ball. Upon entering her room, she found a note with her name on it and in Vladimir’s hand. She sat at her vanity and opened it. As she read it, her heart slowly sank into the pit of her stomach, feeling disappointed and angry. 

_“My Dear Colette,_

_I must apologize. An emergency as called me away back to Transylvania and I will be unable to escort you to the masquerade ball. I will return at the earliest convenience._

_Love,_

_V.”_  

Colette frowned, crumpling the note up and throwing it into the wastebasket beside her vanity. She decided that she wasn’t going to let Vladimir’s absence stand in her way of having a great time at the ball. She grabbed up her slip and corset for the evening, going to bathe before getting ready.

* * *

 

After what seemed like hours, Colette was nearly ready to attend the masquerade ball. She was wearing a gorgeous, flowing black dress with lace accents on the sleeves. Her bodice was graced with silver accents in designs of stars. Her hair was all in curls and she had twisted it until all of her hair was gathered over her left shoulder. She pinned her long locks in place, tying a black ribbon around it as an accent. Her make-up was flawless; her eyes were bold with black eye shadow, showing hints of silver glitter and her cheeks bared only the slightest hint of rouge. As she put the rouge on her lips to give them some color, she stopped, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t get over how much she had changed over these last six months. She wondered if Erik was going to make an appearance. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since she had sent him away, although she knew that he was helping Van Helsing and the others care for Lucy. She finished with her lips and picked up her mask, placing it and tying the ribbon in the back, doing one final look over in the mirror before departing the room. 

When she stepped out into the corridor, the seamstresses and stage hands were bustling about with bottles of champagne to have a party of their own. When they saw her, they had to take a step back. Once they realized that it was her, they smiled and went about their business, and Colette made her way to Lucy’s room to show her the costume and mask. The door was open and she saw Aiden, sitting in a chair and watching over a sleeping Lucy. She smiled softly, deciding not to bother them and went on to the party. 

The ball was just starting as Colette walked down the grand staircase, her hand guiding down the banister with each step that she took. She immediately pointed out Andre and Firmin in their costumes, seeing Madame and Meg Giry off on the other side of the room. Patrons were flooding into the doors, dressed in elaborate costumes and the masks that she had made. As an usher handed her a glass of champagne, Andre and Firmin came over and took her by each arm, walking with her. 

“So was the Opera Ghost your inspiration for your costume,” Andre asked in a whisper as he smiled at some of the patrons, sipping at his champagne. From the sound of his voice, Colette could tell that there was a slight annoyance and a hint of fear that she had displeased Erik for dressing as she did. She chose to answer honestly and calmly so not to upset them, even though they would be upset with her anyway no matter how she answered. 

“As a matter of fact, he was,” she said quietly, pulling herself from their grasp. “This was my choice to dress as this, and I’m not going to change. No one knows what he looks like anyway. This is just an idea.” 

Firmin and Andre looked at each other, then back at Colette. “What you do here is a reflection on us, Colette,” Firmin scolded, looking at her. “It also depends on what your friend perceives this as. For now, I think you better separate yourself from the crowd. Go enjoy the party from afar.” 

“You’re…you’re throwing me out?” 

“Consider this your warning,” Andre said before following Firmin back to the main part of the party. “If you do anything else tonight to create a bad name for this opera house, you will be dismissed immediately.” With that, he returned to the party and left Colette nearly in tears. She slowly walked back into the main foyer, only to go up the grand staircase and walk around, watching the party from the balconies. She found herself after what seemed like hours of wandering on the third balcony, near the grand foyer that was reserved for the men when they came to the opera to sit and chat. Tonight, it was closed off due to the party. 

From the moment that Andre and Firmin left her, Colette felt as if she was being watched. She was alone, and the guests that were there complimented her on her stunning gown and mask. She thanked them graciously, but wanted to be alone. She wished that Vladimir had stayed instead of being called away. Maybe if he had stayed and escorted her to this party that she wouldn’t have been scolded, or even if she had been scolded he would have been able to smooth it over. She looked down at the party from the balcony, resting her head on the pillar. She watched as it must have neared midnight, and it was time for the grand finale. Firmin and Andre stood with their champagne glasses in hand, singing to the patrons. 

_Dear Andre,_

_What a splendid party!_

_The prelude to a bright new year!_

_Quite a night,_

_I’m impressed!_

_Well, one does one’s best!_

_Here’s to us!_

_The toast before the city!_

_It’s such a pity that the Phantom can’t be here!_  

The audience and the managers shared a laugh as some eyes checked their surroundings, while others moved their gaze to the balcony where Colette was standing. She moved and hid behind the pillar, letting out a soft sigh. She closed her eyes and listened to the music, only opening them when she recognized the melody. It was the same melody that was playing on Erik’s music box, and the same sheet music that she had sung from the first time he heard her sing. Suddenly, she didn’t care who heard her or who cared. She moved from behind the pillar, looking down at the party as the choreographed dance that Madame Giry had created took place on the floor, and the song emerged from everyone’s mouths, including Colette’s. 

_Masquerade!_

_Paper faces on parade!_

_Masquerade!_

_Hide your face so the world will never find you!_

_Masquerade!_

_Every face a different shade!_

_Masquerade!_

_Take your fill; let the spectacle astound you!_  

Colette couldn’t help herself. As the soloists began to sing their part, she took advantage of being on the balcony alone and began to dance. She held onto the skirt of her dress and spun herself into the grand foyer where she pretended that she had a partner. She could hear the song continuing below her and she didn’t care. She was finally starting to have fun; Andre and Firmin’s threat seemed like a distant memory and she was ready to rejoin the party. As the second round of solos began to sing, Colette went to leave the grand foyer until she felt a bare hand grab hers and pull her back in. She soon found herself up against the chest of a man who was dressed all in red with a skull mask and his costume had a flourish. It was only by the skull mask and his familiar ring that she recognized him. She couldn’t help but smile. 

“Erik, what are you doing here,” she asked in a whisper as he pulled her into a frame, his opposite hand going to the small of her back. She didn’t recoil; she naturally grabbed her skirt with her left hand while her right was still clasped into Erik’s. 

“I have to make my grand entrance at the end, which has been part of my plan all along,” he said with a slight hint of a smirk. When the music changed, he started to dance with her. “We only have a few moments. What are you doing up here all by yourself?” 

“The managers sort of banished me for my costume,” she explained, smiling as she danced with him, even though she still felt the eyes on her. “They thought that it would be in bad taste.” 

“I’ll get them back for that,” he said as he spun her, bringing her back to him, his grip slightly tighter than it was before. 

“No, Erik, its fine,” she said gently, her hand gripping the shoulder of his jacket as he continued to waltz with her. “What are you going to do?” 

“You’ll see,” he said with another smirk, picking her up and spinning her around. He slowly lowered her, his hand traveling up and untying the ribbon, taking the mask off of her. “That’s better,” he said softly, his hand moving over her hair softly. “Colette, please don’t get mad at me for this. I need to do this.” 

“And what’s that,” she asked, moving her hands to her sides. She hardly had time to prepare herself when Erik leaned in and kissed her. Regardless of the mask, the kiss was perfect. Colette heard her mask drop from his hand as his hand went to her hair again, holding her in place as her hands went to his jacket, gripping the folds of the lapel. As the music changed, she pulled back slowly, though her grip remained. “Erik…” He took her hands, pulling them away from her. 

“I have to go,” he whispered, sneaking another quick kiss. “I’ll come to you soon. I promise.” 

As quickly as he came, he disappeared, and Colette leaned down, picking up her mask from the floor. She went out to the balcony, feeling as if she was walking on air. All thought of Vladimir seemed to fade with that one kiss from Erik. With that single kiss, she knew that he cared about her, loved her even with Christine having his heart. She leaned against her pillar again, watching as the music faded and he made his grand appearance, now carrying a parcel with him. She continued to watch, but her mind wasn’t there. She felt as if someone had control of her mind, making her think that she was no longer at the party. 

She found herself walking down the corridor to Lucy’s room. The corridor was empty, and Aiden was gone from Lucy’s room. She was all alone. She watched as Lucy turned in her bed, letting out a low, wheezing breath, opening her arms to the guest in her room. She knew it wasn’t Aiden; she never acted like that with Aiden when he came into the room. Then, there was a voice inside her head, speaking to Lucy. A male voice – low and almost demonic. The sound of the voice caused Colette to tremble, holding onto the railing of the balcony for support. 

_“Your impotent men and their foolish spells cannot protect you from my power,”_ the voice spoke, and Lucy suddenly retreated, cowering in the corner where her bed was resting. Colette had moved as well, pulling herself away from the balcony and running to the grand foyer to hide. Suddenly, the point of view changed within her mind, and it caused Colette to buckle, catching herself on the couch. Her head ached and she closed her eyes, putting her hands up to the sides of her head. As there was an explosion off in the distance and people screaming, she was looking at the man who was all engulfed in shadow, and he continued to speak. 

_“I condemn you to living death, to eternal hunger for living blood.”_  

The Shadow moved to the bed and grabbed hold of Lucy and soon, Colette and Lucy both let out a cry of pain as there was a sharp piercing pain to the neck. Colette groaned as she tried to pull herself up, but found herself unable to do so. She found that she was weak and leaning against the couch, and Lucy was dying. As Lucy let out a blood curdling scream that was muffled by everyone else’s panicked cries, Colette lost consciousness, falling to the floor in the grand foyer. 

Hours later, the lanterns had been dimmed and all was quiet once again throughout the opera house. Colette’s eyes fluttered, feeling the cold floor beneath her with the palms of her hands. She slowly opened her eyes, and found that she was alone, but her head was pounding. She deduced that she had drunk too much champagne, and tried to retrace her steps of the night. She remembered the scolding by the managers, the dance and the kiss from Erik, and the grand finale of the night. Thinking of the kiss that was given to her by Erik made her smile, and she knew that she had to tell Lucy. She would be so pleased that Erik really did care about her. She practically ran down the stairs and to the main foyer, finding her way in the darkness back to Lucy’s room. She wasn’t surprised when she found the door open and Lucy, sleeping in bed. 

“Lucy,” Colette spoke in a soft, sing-song voice, heading over to the bed. “Lucy, wake up. I want to tell you what happened tonight at the party. Erik kissed me!” When there wasn’t an answer, she sat in the chair, placing her hand on Lucy’s arm. “Didn’t you hear me? Erik kissed me! He does care for me, Lucy.” She gently shook her to rouse her, cocking her head to the side. Lucy didn’t wake. “L…Lucy?” Colette shook her again, and Lucy’s hand fell of the side of the bed, lying there limply. “Lucy? Lucy, wake up.” This time, she grabbed hold of Lucy’s shoulders, shaking her more and more as tried to rouse her. Still, she didn’t wake. Colette’s hands left Lucy’s shoulders and went to her lips, shaking her head as denial rose through her. “No. Now, Lucy, I know you like jokes, but you need to wake up now. Wake up, Lucy! WAKE UP!” Lucy didn’t move. Colette ran from the room, letting out a scream of help, crying out for anyone. Unfortunately, it was too late for anyone to help. 

Lucy was gone.


	22. Chapter 22

A few days after Lucy’s death, a small funeral was held at a small church in the city. Only those who knew her and loved her attended, which was everyone at the Opera Populaire. Everyone, that is, except Colette. Finding Lucy’s corpse was very traumatic, especially when finding someone to help her was a near futile effort. Van Helsing came rushing out of the shadows as Colette continued to scream for help and waking the entire opera house. Colette felt like she was screaming for hours, even though it was only a few minutes. When Van Helsing found her, he checked her over before she screamed into his face that it was Lucy who needed help. As the staff and everyone who lived at the opera house gathered around Lucy’s room, Van Helsing was able to break the news to everyone that Lucy had indeed passed away. Colette slipped away, locking herself in her room and refused to come out. She refused to talk to everyone, including Erik, refused to eat, and only got up to paint when she felt like it. She would wait until the opera house was silent to use the bathroom and bathe, being ever so quiet so no one would hear her or speak to her. Van Helsing tried to coax her to come out at least for the funeral, but his coaxing went unanswered. 

Erik, however, attended the funeral, remaining hidden in the shadows so he would not be seen. He even went to the city cemetery and watched as Lucy’s coffin was taken into the mausoleum and laid to rest as the ballet corps and others wept and held each other. After the funeral, he met with Van Helsing and the others at Dr. Seward’s office at the sanatorium to discuss their next move. 

“So, what now,” Erik asked as Dr. Seward took out his autopsy kit from his desk, looking at Van Helsing. “He’s killed her, and in a way, he has killed Colette also. If we can’t pull her out of her depression, he’ll take her for sure.” 

“He won’t take her just yet,” Van Helsing replied, putting stakes and hammers into his bag. “More than likely, he’ll wait until she’s alone and we’re not there to protect her, or when she loses another person who is dear to her. And that person will be you, Erik. When you die, it will be the end of her.” He fixed his gaze on Erik, pointing a stake at him. “I suggest that you don’t do anything reckless in the coming weeks with this opera of yours. She’ll need you, now more than ever.” 

“Just as long as you don’t interfere with my plans, we’ll be fine,” Erik spoke sternly, standing his ground as Van Helsing brandished the stake at him. Behind him, Aiden was staring and his stare was fixated on Erik, empty, cold, and filled with anger. Erik ignored him, his focus on Van Helsing. “So, where is he? Do we have any idea where he’s hiding?” 

“It’s likely that he’s in hiding, giving the illusion that he returned to Transylvania. I believe that he’s hiding somewhere in the city, but we haven’t found his home yet. For now, we need to take care of Lucy, and then we will continue our search of the city for his home.” 

“What do you mean, take care of Lucy?” 

“Oh, nothing. We just need to cut off her head and take out her heart.” 

“Have you gone mad,” Erik nearly shouted, looking around at the three men, who were now all looking at him, their packing of weapons and supplies ceasing. “Lucy has suffered enough, don’t you think? She’s already dead; there’s no need to desecrate her grave!” Erik’s rant was only interrupted by the large Bowie knife flying past his head, causing him and Van Helsing to dodge out of the way, then his eyes turning to Aiden who was stomping towards him as he regained his composure. 

“Jesus Christ, you still haven’t learned a thing, have you,” Aiden shouted back, getting in Erik’s face before Jack could hold him back. “Lucy is not Lucy anymore! She is a monster, just as his Brides were! We have to kill her before she rises, otherwise she will kill people, including your precious Christine!” 

Erik shoved Aiden back, and Jack stepped between them, holding Aiden back from Erik as he began to swing punches at him. “I don’t care if you’re grieving,” Erik growled in a low voice, his stare fixed on Aiden. “If you mention Christine again, I’ll kill you.” 

“Both of you, stop this right now,” Van Helsing shouted as he placed the stake on Jack’s desk, shoving Aiden into a chair with Jack moving behind the chair and placing his hands on Aiden’s shoulders, as if to hold him there. As Erik looked upon Aiden, he saw that he was shaking, not in anger but in grief. He obviously wasn’t more stable than Erik was; he knew this from Aiden’s body language and from the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Erik soon realized that Aiden truly cared for Lucy, maybe even loved her. Just ask Erik loved Colette and Christine. 

“Now, listen to me, both of you,” Van Helsing continued, his voice calmer and firmer than before. “I don’t care about what’s going on between you, but you need to bury it and we all need to work together if we’re going to protect Colette from Dracula. One way that we can do this is by killing Lucy. I’m sad to say that we need to do it now while she’s still young. She lives beyond the grace of God, a wanderer in the outer darkness. She is vampyr, Nosferatu. Creatures like her do not die like the bee after the first sting, but instead grow strong and become immortal once infected by another Nosferatu.” He stopped only for a moment to rub his tired eyes before continuing. “So, my friends, we fight not one beast but legions that go on age after age after age, feeding on the blood of the living. Now, before we go into the cemetery tonight, we need a plan…”

* * *

 

While Erik and the others began to plot how they were going to kill Lucy, Colette was in her bed, laying there and staring blankly at the wall. The Opera Populaire was settling for the night, even though she had no care of the time. She would sleep like she had done before, but today was different. With Lucy’s funeral looming in her mind, Colette was feeling guilty for not attending and saying her final farewell to her only friend. Her subconscious didn’t ease her feelings of guilt either. Every time she closed her eyes to sleep, she could only see Lucy being mangled by a man-like beast and Colette couldn’t save her because she was frozen in fear. Constant knocks and voices went unanswered as people at the Opera Populaire continued to check on her, but Colette only lay on her bed, silent as more tears fell and she pulled her quilt over her head to hide from the world. Less and less people began to stop by her room as the day became later and later. Just as she thought that everyone was gone, she heard a soft knock, then the turning of a key in the lock and her door opening and closing quietly. She pretended to be asleep, staying hidden beneath the quilt as she heard her mystery guest moving about her room. The guest had food; she could smell bread and freshly sliced fruit, along with a pot of hot tea. Then, the guest spoke, and it took all of Colette’s strength not to bolt upright in her bed when she recognized the voice. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” the soft and pleasant voice of Christine Daae rang out and filled Colette’s silent room. “I brought you some food, because you can’t go much longer without eating. You’ll make yourself sick.” Christine’s feet shuffled around the room, and she moved the chair from the vanity so she could sit down. “I’m sure that you’re wondering how I got a key to your room. Well, I got it from Messieurs Andre and Firmin, and I plan on returning it as soon as I leave here.” Christine stopped as she sat and waited for a reply before continuing. “I know that you’re not sleeping, but I understand why you’re not speaking to anyone. I went through the same thing that you’re going through when my father died. I was brought here, uprooted from everything I knew and I was expected to start all over without my father to guide me on the right path. It wasn’t until I heard his voice at night, encouraging me to try new things and to live my life, just as my father wanted me to. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through; you’ve lost both of your parents at the same time, and now one of your only friends all within months of each other. Do you still talk to him? He scares me sometimes; his love for me is so intense that I fear it. However, the Angel knows all. I know that now.” She stopped, just watching Colette, even though Colette didn’t move or reply to her questions about Erik. She cleared her throat, and continued to talk. “You’re feeling guilty because you couldn’t save her and because you couldn’t bring yourself around to attend the funeral, correct?” Colette’s breathing changed slightly in reply, becoming softer and not as deep as if she was just starting to wake up. She didn’t move, but Christine knew that somehow, she was bringing her around. “You need to let go of that guilt, Colette. That’s the only way you can begin to heal. Accept that there wasn’t anything that could be done and that all of you involved did everything you could to save her, then you’ll begin to heal.” Christine stood, moving the chair back to the vanity, now standing beside Colette’s bed. “I’m sure that what I said wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, but I hope that it helped. We need you here, especially when we begin the rehearsals for the new opera. Nobody will be able to paint the canvases like you do.” She turned and walked towards the door, opening it to leave. Colette stayed where she was, listening as the door closed and was locked once again, Christine’s footsteps fading as she departed from the room. When she no longer heard anything, she sat up and looked at the food, her appetite getting the best of her and she began to eat hungrily. She nearly made herself sick as she shoveled food into her mouth, barely tasting it until she heard a voice within her mind. 

_Darling, slow down. You don’t want to end up in bed again with an upset stomach._  

She stopped chewing immediately as she heard the voice. The voice sounded strangely like Vladimir’s. But Vladimir was still abroad in Transylvania, so how could his voice be within her mind? She shrugged it off and swallowed her food, eating again and more slowly this time. It wasn’t long before the entire tray was empty, along with the pot of tea. Colette sat on her bed, staring blankly at her feet as she replayed Christine’s words in her mind. In a way, she felt that Christine was right. But how could she let go of that guilt that was eating at her. 

_You do need to say goodbye_ , the voice spoke again. _You’ll be able to move on that way._  

Colette looked up in the mirror as the voice spoke again, as if to find Erik there, standing there with the mirror slightly open, playing tricks on her. However, this wasn’t a trick. She was alone and the voice was in her head, speaking to her in her thoughts. She stood and moved about her room, pacing and glancing at her clock. It was only a few minutes after midnight, the opera house was quiet, and Erik was gone. If she got dressed and left quickly, and came back after saying a prayer or two for Lucy’s soul, no one would miss her. She threw her hair up in a bun and dressed in a black gown to cloak her in the night, looking down at her jewelry box. Inside, there was a silver crucifix on a matching chain that belonged to her mother. She picked it up in her hands and looked at it. She didn’t know what it was, but something inside of her was telling her that she needed to wear it. She slipped the chain around her neck and clasped it, looking herself over in the mirror. She grabbed a cloak and pulled it on as she opened her bedroom door quietly, closing it as she looked around, making sure that no one was there. When she saw that the coast was clear, she dashed off into the night, heading to the cemetery.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry; this chapter is kind of shitty. I've been dealing with a bad case of writer's block, so this chapter is not up to par with my writing ability. However, it's better than nothing.  
> ~DP

The walk to the cemetery was a long one, especially in the cold evening temperatures of winter. Colette shivered slightly as she found her way in the dark, her hands clutching the stems of the flower bouquet to take her mind off of the cold. To avoid being seen, she stayed to the shadows, cutting through alleys and side streets where shadows were prominent. During her journey to the cemetery, it was also the prime time for the ladies of the evening to be out, along with their drunken and possessive counterparts. She darted across the street, seeing iron fencing and a gate, as well as a few statues and headstones. She had finally made it, and not a moment too soon. She hid behind a tree as a constable emerged from the dark cemetery, closing and locking the gate behind him so no one would trespass onto the grounds. He walked into the opposite direction, soon disappearing into the night, and leaving Colette alone. She thought quickly, looking up at the branches with a smirk. She then tossed the bouquet over the iron fence, reaching up and grabbing the first branch she could reach. It had been years since she had climbed a tree; the last time was when she was a child in the park with her parents in London. She pulled herself up and swung her leg over the branch, letting out a breath of air as she reached up for the next nearest branch, pulling herself up to stand. Surveying her surroundings, she knew that the needed to go a little higher so she could drop down from the branch and not risk with getting her dress caught on the fence. She grabbed at the next limb, pulling herself over and to another sturdy branch and repeated the process until she was standing over the grounds near the fence, a tall angel statue below where she was standing. She moved to sit down on the branch, and with both of her hands firmly holding on, she lowered herself slowly to where the tips of her toes were touching the base of the angel statue, and then lowered herself completely. She held onto one of the angel’s arms, regaining her balance and jumping down, looking around at her surroundings.

The cemetery was dark, and inexplicably cold. When Colette straightened herself up and regained her composure, she walked over and picked up her bouquet, looking around. This coldness that she was feeling was not due to the weather; this was something that she had felt before, as a child, and it would disappear if she went to look for it. She couldn’t find the source of the cold chill tonight; she needed to say her goodbyes to Lucy. As she walked the man path of the dark cemetery, shadows seemed to move within the night, but no figures emerged. Colette kept herself aware of her surroundings, being mindful of others, if they were around. As she continued along the path, she also noticed that there was no snow on the ground, whereas outside the cemetery gates there was a light dusting, enough to leave a trail of footprints. She turned a corner along the path, finding a young woman lying against a headstone, her eyes open but empty. Colette lifted an eyebrow, approaching the woman and placing her hand on her shoulder to rouse her, but the woman just slumped over, unresponsive. As she looked closer, Colette found two deep puncture wounds on her neck, similar to the wounds that she saw on the seamstress’s neck and on Lucy’s. She took a step back and continued on the path, seeing the mausoleum, but the woman’s body wasn’t the only one she found along the way. As she walked, she found two more bodies, one of a man and another woman, both whose necks had the same deep, puncture marks. Every nerve inside Colette screamed at her and told her that she needed to leave the cemetery as soon as she came. She fought every urge to run, letting out a low sigh of relief as she reached the mausoleum, stopping at the foot of the stairs when she saw that the door was open. This time, she resisted the urge to go inside, setting her flowers down at the stairs and making the sign of the cross and saying a silent prayer. However, the mausoleum’s open door was unsettling, more unsettling than the dead bodies that she found along the path. As she was about to make another sign of the cross to end her prayer, something broke the silence of the cemetery. A sound that shouldn’t be heard at this time of night: a child’s cry. Colette thought quickly, moving to hide behind a nearby angel statue as she watched the path, waiting to see if the child was lost and had wandered from its home in the night. What she saw was near unthinkable.

The child was being carried against its will, and it was being carried by a young woman. But this woman wasn’t just any woman. This woman was wearing a Degas ballet dress, stockings, and ballet shoes to match. Her wild red hair was tangled in a mess of curls, pulled back in a ribbon. Her skin was so pale that you could hardly see the freckles that lay upon her face. As she woman drew closer to the mausoleum, Colette realized who it was.

 “Lucy.”

She emerged from hiding and slowly approached the mausoleum, lowering the hood of her cloak and calling Lucy’s name. Lucy turned quickly, dropping the child on the cold ground and the child wailed, getting up and running away. Colette stayed where she was, only moving when Lucy attempted to approach her, taking a few steps back. “This is impossible,” Colette said as Lucy moved around in a circle and Colette followed suit, keeping her eyes locked on Lucy. “You’re dead. I found you, and you didn’t breathe. You didn’t wake. You’re dead.”

“But I am not dead, my dear friend,” Lucy said with an almost fiendish smile, flashing her fangs at Colette, causing Colette to gasp and place her hands over her mouth. “He has given me a new life. He has blessed me with being immortal and basking in his power. I feel as if I can fully live my life now, and I don’t have to answer to commands of the ballet mistress or the Opera Ghost anymore.”

“Who has done this to you, Lucy,” Colette asked her, backing up against the angel statue that she hid behind. “Who made you into this monster?”

Lucy let out a howling laugh that rang throughout the city, her eyes glowing in the dark and her stare fixated on Colette. “Dracula made me like this, and I’m far from a monster. I’m just ravenous, is all. And you scared off my last dinner for the night. I know he wanted you for himself, but maybe it would please him if I brought you to him. Then he could finish the job.” Lucy let out a low growl, and lunged for Colette. Colette dodged, but Lucy grabbed ahold of her from behind, holding onto her tightly as she tried to drag her into the mausoleum. Colette fought back, elbowing Lucy in the ribs until she finally let go, making an attempt to run, but it was futile. Lucy’s skills were now enhanced, and Colette had to do all that she could do to keep fighting and to save her life. Lucy tackled Colette, and Colette tried to crawl away, but Lucy rolled Colette onto her back. “It’s going to be a shame to kill you, my dear friend. However, I’m sure that your blood will be amazing.” Lucy’s hand wrapped around Colette’s neck and she let out a howling scream, bolting upright and holding her wrist with her free hand. Colette looked closer, seeing a cross burned into Lucy’s palm. “You bitch! You rancid, Christian bitch!” As Lucy lunged wildly towards Colette, but she stopped, screaming and snarling at another crucifix that was being held by Van Helsing.

“We are strong in the Lord, and the power of his might,” he shouted at her, as the others emerged from the shadows, Erik sweeping behind Colette and picking her up, cradling her and moving to carry her back to the Opera House. Colette pushed herself out of Erik’s arms, watching as Lucy cowered at the cross, hissing and snarling.

“Colette, you don’t need to see this,” Erik said as he took Colette’s hand, trying to pull her away. However, Colette just pulled her hand away, watching and walking towards the group of men, seeing that Dr. Seward had an axe. “Colette, stop!” Colette didn’t stop. She grabbed the axe out of the doctor’s hand and walked up the steps. As Van Helsing continued to chant, Lucy was backed up against the outside wall of the mausoleum, blood foaming from her mouth and her eyes turning toward Colette, who was holding the axe firmly in her hands. Lucy’s gaze broke Van Helsing’s concentration and Erik was running up the steps to stop her from doing what the men had come there to do. Van Helsing put his hand up to stop Erik in his tracks, shaking his head.

“A moment’s courage and it will be done,” Van Helsing told him, looking over at the weakened state of Lucy, whose eyes were still pleading with Colette not to do what she was about to do.

“She doesn’t need to do this,” Erik told him, moving to get his rapier. “She’ll have nightmares for weeks.”

“Colette, please,” Lucy whimpered, putting her hands up to stop Colette as she raised the axe. “I’m just sick. Please, Colette, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Lucy,” Colette whispered, her grip tightening on the handle of the axe. “I have to do this. And I pray that God has mercy on your soul.”

As Lucy opened her mouth to scream, the axe came down and lopped off Lucy’s head in one swing. Blood spewed from the wound and all over Colette. The head rolled down the steps to Van Helsing’s feet, Lucy’s last look of horror still written on her face. Colette watched as the body slumped down the wall, her hand still gripping the handle of the axe. The voice inside Colette’s head was screaming now, drowning out the words of the men as they began to carry the pieces of Lucy back into the mausoleum.

_What have you done?! Why have you done this to me?! I thought you loved me! I thought you loved her! This will plague your dreams for as long as you live!_

“Colette,” Erik’s voice broke through, his hands slowly pulling the axe away from her, setting it down on the ground. “Colette, it’s okay.” He turned her towards him, looking into her unemotional eyes, trying to read her emotions. He took out a handkerchief from his jacket, wiping the blood from her hands, face, and neck. He looked down, seeing the crucifix around her neck. “That’s probably what saved your life tonight.”

“Thank you, it’s from my mother,” she said softly, unemotionally, and tiredly. Erik shook his head, picking her up and cradling her.

“Come on,” he whispered, wrapping her cloak around her. “I’m taking you back. They can handle the rest of their task. I have a secret way that we can take.”

“Will you stay with me,” she asked as he began to walk around the mausoleum, and by the tomb that was marked with the name of Daae, moving to a sewer grate and opening it. He jumped down with ease, still holding onto her.

“Yes, I will stay with you. I will always be with you. I promise.”


	24. Chapter 24

After returning to the lair, Erik helped Colette to remove her blood-stained dress, averting his eyes to respect her privacy. He lifted her into a warm bath while she was still in a slip, laying out another dress for her to put on when she was ready. He left her alone to her thoughts, although he wasn’t sure if he should have left her alone. She was empty, as if her mind and soul had been ripped from her body. She hadn’t said a word since she asked him to stay with her and this frightened him. That vampire had done something to her; he was sure of it. He couldn’t be sure what it was, but he knew that something had to be done to her to make her sustain such shock. He retreated to the main part of his lair, surprised when he looked up to see Van Helsing standing there, waiting for him. “How did you get down here,” he asked him, looking for something in reach to defend himself. Van Helsing raised his hand to stop him, removing his hat and cloak.

 “You left the sewer gate open,” he replied simply, draping his cloak over his arm. “It wasn’t difficult to find you. How is she?”

 “She’s in shock, possibly traumatized,” Erik replied, his hand moving over his wigged hair. “I put her in the bath to get the blood off of her skin.”

 “You do realize that this isn’t over, don’t you? He’s not going to stop now. Just because Lucy, another pawn, is dead doesn’t mean that he’s going to stop coming after her.”

 “I know this,” Erik said firmly, his hands balling into fists. He planted his fists on a nearby table, looking at Van Helsing. “I’m going to do everything that I can to protect her.”

 “Not if you’re thinking about this opera of yours,” he replied, going over to look at some of the staging designs that Erik had laid out. “So what is your plan? You’re staging this opera; are you planning to be a part of it as well?”

 “As I said before, that is none of your business. I’m more worried about Colette at the moment. Do we have any idea where Dracula could be?”

 “I believe that he’s still somewhere in the city. His mind still has a strong connection to Colette’s, and if he was out of the country, I don’t believe that he would be influencing her like he is now.”

 Erik let out a soft sigh, turning his gaze back towards the bathing area, hoping Colette was all right. “We need to find him, Van Helsing. We need to kill him before he gets to her.”

 “We’re doing everything that we can to find him,” he said gently to reassure him, moving to go back the way that he came down. “We’ll keep you updated. Your job now is to care for Colette and protect her with everything that you can do. I’ll take my leave now.” He placed his hat on his head and tipped it to Erik, leaving the lair after a few moments. Erik moved to sit at his desk, writing the first of a list of notes that he was sending the managers and Madame Giry. He began to think of what would be the best way to protect Colette. He desired to keep her down in his home with him where she wouldn’t be out of his sight, but he knew that she would be dismissed from the painting job and wouldn’t be allowed to work in the city after. He thought for a few more moments, and then decided his course of action, writing what his wishes were for the note to be read by Madame Giry. Once he finished the notes and sealed them, he went back to the bathing area, seeing Colette was clean, but still in a state in which her gaze was empty and her face unregistered of any emotion. He walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She blinked once, and then slowly turned her head, looking up at him.

 “The water has cooled, Colette,” Erik said softly, moving to get a towel for her to dry off with. “You should get out now before you catch a cold. You won’t be able to work if you’re sick.” She looked at him, still not saying a word, but took the towel from him. He stepped out again to give her privacy, hearing the sloshing sound of water as she stepped out. Colette let out a quiet sigh, shrugging off the wet slip and pulling the dress on after she had dried off her body, stepping out to see Erik still waiting patiently for her. She looked down at the dress, knowing that she hadn’t seen it before, but also knew that it wasn’t meant for her. “No, it wasn’t meant for you. However, she has many other things that will make her happy,” Erik said softly, going to her and fixing the crucifix that was around Colette’s neck. “I’m sorry for whatever this man has done to you to make you mute, and I’m sorry that you had to do that to Lucy. It was not my intention for you to be involved in anything that we have done or to see anything that was done to her. I wish you could stay down here with me, but it would not be beneficial for you. I do have some things in place that will help me keep a better eye on you, and I will stay with you in your room every night from now on. That is, if you would like me to. Please…please just say something. I don’t like that you’re not speaking. Colette…please…” He knelt before her feet, lowering his head as he begged her to talk to him, warm tears welling up in his eyes. He slowly raised his hand and removed his mask and wig, bowing before her feet and kissing the hem of her gown, sniffling quietly. Then, her small, barely audible voice spoke as her small hand stroked the back of his head, shushing him.

 “I’m sorry,” she whispered, kneeling down in front of him, placing his head in her lap. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you. I just…I didn’t know what could be said.” She began to pet his head, soft and gentle, still holding him. “Lucy was my friend, but whatever she was tonight was not the Lucy that I once knew. I don’t know what came over me that I was able to end her life, but I suddenly felt this strength that I didn’t know I had. It was almost frightening, and yet, exhilarating.” She let out a soft sigh, still petting his head softly, closing her eyes. “Maybe what happened to Lucy is a sign,” she continued, opening her eyes to look at him again. “Maybe something is trying to tell me to wait with being with Vladimir. But the screaming voice inside my head…sounded so much like him…”

 Erik slowly lifted his head and looked at her, his scarred, tear-stained face sincere as he slowly reached up, his trembling hand reaching up to touch her cheek. She didn’t recoil; instead, she smiled at him. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. She kept her hand on his head, slowly moving down to the back of his neck, still in a caressing motion. “I swear to you that I won’t let anything happen to you. You must know that, Colette.”

 “I believe in your promises of protection, Erik. I need you to promise me something else.”

 “Anything! I’ll do anything that you would ask of me.”

 “Promise me that you won’t leave me. I don’t want you to do this opera, Erik, or any proceeding plan that you may have with it. I’m afraid that if you do it…I’ll lose you forever and I don’t want that to happen.”

 “You know that I can’t promise that, Colette.”

 “Please,” she said, begging with him. “Please don’t do this.”

 “This is my life’s work, Colette! I have been working on this, my opus, my opera for years. Years! I am not going to throw it away when I have the chance to do it now, when I have all of my pawns in place.” He stood up, putting his mask and wig back on, turning towards her. “I’m not going to stop my work, Colette. I will do everything in my power to protect you, but not performing my opera is out of the question. Do you understand?”

 She sheepishly looked down at her lap, afraid to look up at him. She only nodded, then she spoke. “Is that all I am to you? A pawn in your insignificant chess game?” Then, she stood up and began to walk towards the lake, wanting to leave. “I know that you’re in love with her, and you always will be. She is, after all, your Angel of Music.” She carefully stepped into the boat and pushed herself from the shore, paddling to the other side on her own. She couldn’t stand the thought that he would never love her; that he was only using her because of her talent for painting. She began to wonder why she even came to Paris in the first place, especially if she knew that she was only going to play second to the great and wonderful Christine Daae. Once she got to the other side, she stepped over and pushed the boat away, figuring that he would retrieve it sooner or later. She walked quietly through the passageway, having remembered which way to take after having followed the path many times before.

 Who did he think he was, using her like he was? She hated being treated like that. It was bad enough that the managers used her as such, but at least they paid her for her skills. Erik just wanted to have her around for no reason other than his own personal gain. It was then that Colette made the decision that after this opera, whether it was performed or not by the company that she would turn in her resignation and return to London at the earliest possible time. She opened her mirror and stepped into her room, looking over at the drawing that she had been working on for some time – the drawing of Erik. It wasn’t finished; it still needed some minor details and it needed to be painted. She sat down and began to finish it. It was the least that she could do, and it would be her parting gift to her Ghost.


	25. Chapter 25

Erik felt guilty after the argument with Colette over his feelings for Christine. However, he couldn’t deny his feelings for Colette either. He wanted to find a way to repay her for the kindness that she had shown him, so he did two things. One of the things was he finished composing a lullaby for her, a melody which had been in his mind for some time, since that night when he first played so many weeks ago. The melody itself was for both violin and piano, to be played however she preferred. He put the final touches on the melody and signed the paper with his signature, along with his own message that was only meant for Colette on the back of the last page. The other thing that he decided to do for her was, needless to say, a shock to the entire company.

 The rehearsals for Don Juan Triumphant had been underway for a little over three weeks, and the company was nowhere near ready to perform the opera, especially if it was to be to Erik’s liking. Colette felt like that she was in the way most of the time during rehearsals as she tried to help design and paint the sets with the other builders, but Erik’s temper had them stopping and restarting the building of the sets every other day. Colette ended up staying back, unable to fill her final commission. She hadn’t told the managers that she was resigning her commission after this final opera, but the opportunity hadn’t arose. The managers saw how Colette seemed out of place and unable to work with all of the chaos of all the changes being made, so they decided to commission her for a painting of the two of them. None of the previous owners had a painting commissioned, so they decided to be the trendsetters, as it were.

 The only problem was that with painting Andre and Firmin while Erik was on the warpath was that there was constant hustle and bustle in and out of the their office. Colette had started sketching the two of them at work, sitting on a stool as she sketched on the canvas. She worked quietly and didn’t speak while they worked, though she heard every word that was said between them, along with Carlotta, Piangi, Raoul and Christine. Colette was working on the fine lines of Firmin on the canvas when Andre burst in, throwing the score of the opera on their on his desk, letting out an exasperated yell, which made Colette jump and draw a large charcoal line right through a sitting Firmin who was reading the score. She cursed to herself and grabbed her eraser to fix the mistake while Andre began his rant.

 “This is ludicrous,” he shouted, pacing about the office as Firmin looked up from the libretto, his own expression frustrated and nervous. “Have you seen the score?”

 “Yes, I have, and it is simply ludicrous, but we need to comply with his requests, Giles. If we don’t, you know what will happen. Another chandelier…or worse.”

 “Miss Harker, you’ve heard the rehearsing for the last few weeks,” Andre said, directing his attention to Colette after she had fixed the mistake and went back to working on the fine outlines of Andre and Firmin. “What do you think of this opera?”

 “Well,” she began, her attention focused on the canvas while she spoke. “I personally think that the music that was written by the Phantom is the best music that I have ever heard. He is very gifted and very smart. I believe that it’s the two of you that are going about the rehearsals all wrong. Get the orchestration down first, with the singing, and then you should be able to start blocking rehearsals. Then again, I am only a painter. What do I know of the opera?”

 The men chuckled and Colette swore that she heard a chuckle behind her. A very familiar, low, dark chuckle. She knew that the walls had ears, but if it was Erik chuckling behind her, she would’ve been very surprised since she hadn’t interacted with him for weeks. She couldn’t help but smile that Andre and Firmin had asked her opinion on the opera, even though afterwards she began to wonder if they thought her response was a joke. Andre and Firmin continued to talk about the opera for a few minutes, until they each pulled a note from their jacket pocket, reading them to each other. Once they had read their letters, Carlotta and Piangi burst in, Carlotta crying outrage and that the part she was assigned was an insult to the art that she performed.

 “I wish that you could call this gibberish art,” Piangi chortled, tossing his libretto down as he sat in one of the open chairs. “I don’t care if he is the Phantom or Opera Ghost, or whatever everyone desires to call him. We shouldn’t be performing this trash!”

  _It’s not trash_ , Colette thought as she continued her work, her hand gliding over the canvas and finishing the portrait of Andre and Firmin. All that was needed now was to paint it, and it would be completely finished. She moved to get her pallet and brushes out of her bag when Raoul and Christine joined the already crowded office.

 “Ah, and here is the little flower,” Carlotta exclaimed, her arms crossed with jealousy as Christine crossed the room. Colette felt it was time to try and escape the crowded office as she soon sensed the tension of everyone there. However, as she went to get up, Andre motioned towards her to sit back down and stay to finish the painting.

 “Ah, Miss Daae, you’re quite the lady of the hour, for you have secured the largest role in the opera.”

 “Ha! Christine Daae,” Carlotta questioned the managers, crossing across the dressing room to Christine, flipping a stand of her hair behind her. “She doesn’t have the voice!”

 “Signora, please,” Firmin said exhaustedly, clearly tired of dealing with Carlotta and her petty jealousy.

 “You’re not agreeing with this, are you,” Raoul asked the managers, setting Christine down in a chair so she wouldn’t faint. Colette noticed that Christine looked like she hadn’t slept, obviously worried about her role in the opera. She could do nothing, but sit and watch the drama unfold before her eyes.

 “We have no choice, Raoul!”

 “Don’t you see that she’s the one behind this? Christine Daae,” Carlotta began to rant, pacing about the room. Christine couldn’t take anymore and she stood up from her chair, going to Carlotta.

 “How dare you! You evil woman, how dare you?!”

 “Do you think I’m blind? I am not a fool.”

 “Don’t you see that I don’t want any part of this plot? I didn’t cause this! It isn’t my fault!”

 “Are you backing out?”

 “Miss Daae, we can understand your apprehension to the opera, and it’s your decision, but why not,” Andre asked, coming around to the other side of the desk.

 “It’s your duty,” Firmin told her, going up to Raoul. “Convince her!

 “I cannot sing it, duty or not, Monsieur Firmin.”

 Raoul shook his head at Firmin, frustrated that they were all turning their tails between their legs as he went over to Christine, taking her in his arms and rubbing her backing comfortingly.

 “Christine, you don’t have to,” he told her gently, then shot a look of disgust at Andre and Firmin. “They can’t make you.”

 As Andre and Firmin looked at each other, as if they were about to surrender in a battle, there was a knock on the office door and Madame Giry entered, carrying her own note from Erik. She closed the office door and began with, “Please, Messiers: another note.” There was a collective groan of frustration as she unfolded the note and began to read what new instructions Erik had written for them.

 “Fondest greetings to you all!

A few instructions just before rehearsal starts: Carlotta must be taught to act, and not her normal trick of strutting around the stage. Our Don Juan must lose some weight – it’s not healthy in a man of Piangi’s age. And my managers must learn that they’re place is in an office, and not the arts.

As for Miss Christine Daae, there’s no doubt she’ll do her best. It’s true her voice is good. She knows, though, should she wish to excel, she has much still to learn, if pride will let her return to me, her teacher.

If Miss Daae should choose not to perform in the role of Amita, then the role shall be given to…”

 Madame Giry stopped reading, her eyes becoming wider as she read the last few words to herself. Her gaze traveled from the letter to Colette who was still sitting on the stool, and not saying a word. Madame Giry’s stare suddenly worried her and Colette stood up, crossing the room.

 “What’s wrong,” she asked, looking at Madame Giry. When Madame Giry didn’t answer, Colette took the letter from her hands and began to read over it. She read over Erik’s beautiful penmanship, her mouth falling open slightly with an inaudible gasp. She read it over and over, and then spoke the final line aloud.

 “If Miss Daae should choose not to perform in the role of Amita, then the role shall be given to Miss Colette Harker, who…who has perfect pitch and will not require any training to take the part.

Your obedient friend and…Angel…”

 She looked up from the note, and all eyes had fallen on her. The room had become silent, so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Christine had separated herself from Raoul, her expression showing relief knowing that Erik wanted Colette in the role and not Carlotta. The silence was broken by Andre, who was standing next to Firmin in front of his desk.

 “Is it true? Do you have perfect pitch,” he asked, unsure of what it meant, but it had to mean something positive because Carlotta and Piangi had begun to whisper each other in Italian, and from what he could tell from their tones, it wasn’t anything good.

 “Well…I…yes, it’s true.”

 “Why didn’t you tell us?”

 “Because I wanted to paint, not sing. I don’t do well on stage.”

 “Well, we can fix that. You can begin attending rehearsals! We can put you in the chorus!”

 “No, thank you,” she replied politely, starting to tremble a little. “I-I would really just rather paint.”

 “I won’t do it,” Christine spoke up, and the room fell silent again as everyone turned to look at her. “I can’t. I won’t do it. Let Colette take the part, because I won’t.”

 “Christine,” Raoul said, looking at her and kissing her forehead. “Don’t you understand? We’ve all been blind, and the answer is staring us in the face. This could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend once and for all.”

 “What do you suggest,” Firmin asked, the attention going back towards Raoul and Christine.

 “We play his game, perform his work because we hold the ace. If Christine sings, he is certain to attend.”

 “Madness,” Madame Giry said loudly. “This is madness! Messiers, believe me - there is no way of turning the tides.”

 “You stick to ballet,” Firmin spat at her, turning his attention back to Raoul. “Do you really believe that this will work?”

 Raoul didn’t answer, but instead when to Madame Giry, standing up to her. “Help us! Instead of warning us, why don’t you help us?!”

 “Monsieur, I can’t. I wish I could! I really do!”

 The argument between Raoul and Madame Giry sent the whole room into a frenzy of arguments and panicked discussions. Colette was in the middle of it all, although she wasn’t arguing with anyone. The voices overlapped one another like the chattering of the audience while waiting for the opera to begin. Piangi and Carlotta had begun to gang up on Christine, blaming her for all of the accidents and all of the patrons’ affections going toward her, a young diva. Colette went to defend Christine, but between Raoul having his shouting match with Madame Giry and the walls where he was sure that Erik was hiding, Christine let out an anguished and frustrated cry, throwing her libretto across the office.

 “If you don’t stop, I’ll go mad,” she shrieked, and the arguments ceased, Raoul turning his attention to her. Seeing that she was in a panic, he went to her and grasped her by her arms to hold her up. Andre grabbed a chair and pushed it towards and Raoul helped to sit down as she began to beg him. “Raoul, I’m frightened! Don’t make me do this! Raoul, it scares me! Don’t put me through this ordeal by fire…he’ll take me, I know! We’ll be parted forever…he won’t let me go. What I once used to dream, I now dread. If he finds me, it won’t ever end, and he’ll always be there singing songs in my head. He’ll always be there singing songs in my head…”

 She let out a small sob, and the room fell quiet again. Raoul wiped her tears as Carlotta whispered loudly, “She’s mad.”

 “Christine, you said it yourself that he was nothing but a man. Yet, while he lives, he will haunt us ‘til we’re dead.”

 She let a low sigh. “I’m being twisted in every way. What answer can I give, Raoul? Do you want me to risk my life to win the chance to live with you? How can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Do I become his prey, and do I have any choice? Don’t you see that he kills without a thought; he murders all that’s good. I know that I can’t refuse, and yet, I wish I could.” She looked towards Colette, as if she would volunteer and take the role out of Christine’s hands, but Christine knew that she would have to agree to sing eventually. “Oh, God…if I agree, what horrors wait for me, in this - the Phantom’s opera?”

 Raoul leaned in and planted a small kiss on her forehead, sighing softly. “Christine, Christine, don’t think that I don’t care, but every hope and every prayer rests on you now. Please do this. Please sing in the opera.”

 “No…I can’t!” Christine bolted up from her chair and ran out of the office, crying. Raoul ran after her, calling her name. Carlotta, Piangi, and Madame Giry left the room soon after to prepare for rehearsal, leaving Firmin, Andre, and Colette alone in the office once again.

 “Well, rehearsal is in two hours,” Firmin told her gently, handing her bag to her. “We’ll see you then. You should still learn the part – just in case.”

 Colette gave a soft nod and left the office in a daze, leaving the canvas there. She had hid her emotions well. Inside, she was screaming at the fact that Erik had done this to her, but at the same time, she was feeling exhilarated at the fact that she was going to be included in the opera apart from painting the backdrops and designing the sets. However, she needed to yell at Erik for springing this on her without even so much as a note to give her a bit of warning beforehand. Once she was away from the office, she made a beeline for her room and threw her things down, then went on the search for Erik.


	26. Chapter 26

The descent down to the lair went by more quickly than the trips she had taken before. Possibly because she was angry and wanted an explanation from Erik on why he was putting her in the opera, or that she just wanted to see him; she wasn’t sure. The one thing she did know was that this would be their first conversation in a little over three weeks, as they haven’t spoken since the argument they had. The night that Lucy had died…or at least, the shell that once was Lucy had died. Colette hadn’t told anyone about that night, or even the nightmares that she had. Between the blood and the feel of Lucy’s cold skin as she fought her off, it was difficult to get those images out of her mind. She could also hear Vlad’s voice at times during the night, calling to her. She did not dare leave her bed when his voice woke her up. She crossed the lake in the rowboat, trying not to think about the Count. She needed to focus her attention and frustration on Erik.

 Once she had arrived on the other side of the lake, in his domain, she saw that he was working at the organ, hunched down over the libretto for the opera. His opus, he called it. Again, he was not paying attention and did not realize that there was another presence near him. Until Colette picked up one of the smaller candelabras and threw it towards Erik, the candles were falling out of it as the silver candelabra clattering against the stone wall of the lair. That got Erik’s attention. His head lifted and he turned, seeing Colette seething with anger as she moved up the stairs. He got up from the organ just in time as she pushed into his chest, moving towards his bedroom. “How dare you,” she screamed at him, giving him another shove until he was against the wall. His facial expression went from being shocked to being amused as Colette shoved him, standing there and letting her get her frustration out. “How dare you?!”

 “How dare I what, my dear,” he asked, staring down at her while he smirked, unable to hide it. “You didn’t like my surprise?”

 “Surprise?! Is that you’re calling it?! Why didn’t you tell me?! At least give me some sort of warning that you were putting me in your opera!”

 “There wasn’t time, and it’s going to be the only way that I’ll be able to keep my eye on you and protect you from the Count.”

 “I don’t need protecting from him! He’s not even here to hurt me,” she yelled, her hands balling up into fists. “How can you say that you’re protecting me when he’s not even here, and with you putting me in your opera, which will gain more attention than you realize?!”

 Erik quickly grabbed Colette by the arms and changed their positions, instead of pushing her against the wardrobe, pushing her against the cold stone wall of the bedroom, pinning her arms above her so she wouldn’t fight against him. The smirk had faded as he stared down at her, leaning in close to her face so he could get through to her and so that she would listen. “Van Helsing has told you that this Count of yours is not who he seems to be. He is the same man that your parents dealt with years ago, and you with your clouded mind do not see him for what is really is: a monster. I can tell you that this Count is a terrible man, and if he ever shows his face around my opera house again, I will kill him, even if I get killed in the process.”

 “You’re wrong…they are not the same man!”

 “Colette, open your eyes! You can hear his voice calling to you, speaking to you as if he were here! What kind of man can do that?!”

 “Erik, stop it!”

 He leaned down and kissed her lips, and the room went quiet from the echoes of the voices, his hands moving to cup her face. He had to make her listen, make her understand that he really did love her, and that this man, this evil man that was trying to make her his was in fact the villain that had killed her parents. She slowly dropped her arms to her sides, but she didn’t return to the kiss. Her chest, which was heaving with anger when she entered the lair, had slowed to even, calm breaths and her eyes slowly fluttered closed until Erik slowly pulled away and she let out a small whine, secretly wanting more. “I won’t stop until you listen to me. He is a villain, and he means to destroy you. As for the opera, I watched you from the mirror as you read the end of my letter. Yes, you were angry, but I watched as your chest heaved in exhilaration at the thought of being on stage. And don’t lie to me; I saw it with my own eyes. Now…I want you to kiss me.”

 “What,” she whispered, slowly opening her eyes to look at his through his porcelain mask, her breathing quickening slightly.

 “Kiss me,” he said again, his hand moving to the back of her neck and guiding her to him, her nose touching the mask. “I won’t ask again…”

 Colette closed her eyes, leaning in the rest of the way slowly and planting a kiss on his soft lips. Erik held her in place, closing his eyes as he kissed her back in return, slowly pulling her away from the wall and holding her close to him. Her lips parted as she released a soft sigh and Erik went in for another, deeper kiss, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist as he became braver and his tongue came out to play, slowly licking her lower lip. Colette pulled back slowly, her chest heaving slightly again as she looked up at Erik, the same warm feeling that she had felt with Vladimir returning, only this time it was much stronger, and she was much more frightened of what she was feeling. “Erik…I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking up at him apologetically. “I feel that you may have made the wrong choice in Christine’s understudy. I get stage fright so easily, and I can’t do much other than sing and read music a little.”

 “I will help you, Colette. I will train you for the stage. That is…if you’ll have me.”

 “What about Christine?”

 “She does not need me as much as you do, my little one,” he murmured, leaning down and kissing her again. “Do you trust me?”

 “I do.”

 “Then believe me when I say that I will keep you safe.”

 “I do believe you, Erik. What I don’t care for is you running Vladimir into the ground.”

 “What will it take to convince you that he is not a good match for you?”

 “You are my friend, Erik…not my father. Let me make that decision for myself…please.”

 Erik let out a small sigh, taking her hair and tucking it back behind her ear and her shoulder, looking down at her. “All right. All right, Colette. I will let you make your own decisions.”

 “Thank you,” she murmured, looking up at him. Then, without warning, she leaned in and kissed him deeply, pulling him down by the back of his neck. Erik stumbled a little and pressed her against the wall again so they wouldn’t lose their balance, kissing her back with a sense of hunger that he had never felt before. With Christine, he loved her, and may even have lusted after her at times, but Colette was different. This was different. And this was something that he found that he was having a hard time fighting against. Colette’s lips parted and her tongue moved into Erik’s mouth and he groaned inwardly, their tongues dancing while he pulled her from the wall, pressing her into his chest as he walked them to the bed. Colette pulled back for a breath of air as she kissed him again, panting softly as she began to tear at his clothes, just wanting a feel of his skin at her fingertips. However, Erik came to his senses, barely, and moved his hands to hers, clasping them around her delicate fingers and pulling them down as he pulled back from her lips.

 “Not like this,” he murmured, pulling back and kissing her forehead. “We will know when the time is right. Unfortunately, you have to return upstairs for rehearsal. It will begin soon.”

 “Are you sure that I have to go?”

 “Yes, Colette, you have to go. This will be a good learning experience for you,” he said gently, leaning down and nuzzling her cheek with his, kissing it softly. “We’ll begin your training tonight. Be prepared for a grueling few weeks if we are to get you up to par with everyone else, especially Christine.”

 She nodded, moving to step away from him. He walked with her back to the boat, giving her another kiss before she left, watching as she rowed away. Erik sighed, watching her go, his heart singing a melody that he had never heard before. Then, there was a sound of someone clearing their throat. He turned around, seeing Van Helsing had made his return down to the lair. “Young love…it’s unfortunate that you won’t have a chance to express it. Sorry that I interrupted you two.”

“What do you want, Van Helsing?”

“We found another hiding spot, but no sign of Dracula. I fear that he has fled to London. He has property there as well. We can destroy the dirt there, but I’m afraid that he won’t be making his return to Paris.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He’s going to wait until you make a mistake, and that you’re caught in your own web and either arrested or killed for your crimes. With Colette alone, there will be no one to stop him from taking her.”

“So you’re saying that he’s going to wait until she’s back in London? Alone?”

“Yes, and when he does strike, and he will, we’ll be able to catch him.”

“And how do you suggest that we do that?”

“He still has a strong connection to her. He’s calling to her. She’s distant; she hears him everywhere she goes. He will see when you fail because of this connection. So let’s make it look good. Perform in your opera and carry out your plan, and I will make sure that the papers report your death from the fire that will occur here in the opera house.”

“My…my death? A fire in the opera house? You can’t be serious! This whole building will go up in flames!”

“Exactly! There won’t be a body left to identify, and Dracula will naturally assume that you are dead when Colette reads the article.”

“But…Van Helsing, this is my home. I have nowhere else to go. And…and what if I don’t get to Colette in time to save her?”

“We will, as soon as we can get him to come out in London. We can find his hideout and destroy it.”

“This will break her heart,” Erik said quietly, looking back at the lake as if Colette was there, slowly realizing that there would not be a way around it. “I’ll do it, but if I’m going to go into hiding after you have the article written, you’re going to be in charge of finding a new home for both me and Colette.”

“Agreed,” he said, leaving through the secret passageway that he had taken to come down to the lair. Erik turned his back on the passageway, looking out at the lake and sighing quietly. He knew that he wanted to tell Colette the truth, but he would never get the chance. He knew that he would have to use these next weeks to bond with her and love her for as much and for as long as he could. He only hoped that he would be able to sway her feelings of love for the Count to him, and prayed that both plans would work.

“My Colette…I love you, my darling,” he whispered, moving across the lair to sit back down at the organ, starting to compose the melody that he had heard when he had kissed her.


End file.
